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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409703">i see red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/buenaspalabras/pseuds/buenaspalabras'>buenaspalabras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Under Red Lights We Meet [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drug Dealing, F/F, Fucking, Idiots in Love, Lesbian Sex, Pole Dancing, Prostitution, Stress Relief, Unwanted Feelings, Warning: Mentions of abuse, warning: mentions of violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:08:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>73,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/buenaspalabras/pseuds/buenaspalabras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Drug dealer/prostitute AU. </p><p>Macarena is a confident young woman who works as a prostitute. Zulema is a drug dealer who doesn't do relationships. She finds a perfect way to get what she wants. But is it still so perfect when feelings start to arise? </p><p>✨ updates on Fridays ✨</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Under Red Lights We Meet [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>729</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. no kissing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! welcome to my new multichapter. thanks to Michelle for brainstorming with me and to all the putas ratas for the endless support. love y'all. happy reading ✨</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>red are the lights in the room where they meet. red is the color of the sign on the street. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> red are the cuts that he causes to bleed, no matter how hard she tries to be sweet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> red stands for anger and for desperation, that she feels every time she reaches the station. red is the feeling of lust and temptation, and her touch is an overwhelming sensation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> red is the color of unbearable rage, when she finds a new bruise on the side of her rib cage. those bruises she hides when she’s standing backstage, because who would believe a woman of her age? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p><em> but red is the color of love and roses. </em> <em> the feeling that spreads through her veins, when the wooden door closes. </em></p><p>
  <em> red is the blush on her cheek when she proposes. it was there all the time, right under our noses. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> red are the hearts that she draws on a napkin, every time that she thinks of her. red goes the skin underneath her nails, when she laughs and calls her an amateur. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> red are the memories of what they are and what they were. red is the pencil with which she writes </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “you know there’s no one else I’d prefer”.   </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Woohoo! Yes!” </p><p>Saray’s loud voice cuts through the warm September air. She’s hanging out the window of a black Audi A6, the car of her best friend and partner in crime, Zulema Zahir. </p><p>“What a fucking great deal, Zule,” Saray sits back down in her seat, but keeps the window open for some fresh air. Not that the air feels too fresh in September, because the August heat lingers in the air and it’s still too warm to wear a jacket. Saray looks at her best friend, who puts the blinker on to indicate that she’s about to turn right. “You don’t seem so excited.”</p><p>Zulema looks over her shoulder before she turns into the new street. “I am. I just don’t show it.” </p><p>“Sure,” Saray replies, knowing perfectly well how to handle her. “Should we go for a drink to celebrate? There’s a good bar at the end of this street.” </p><p>Zulema glances at her best friend before she nods. “<em>Vale</em>. Show me where.” </p><p>Saray does, and within minutes they’re sitting next to each other at the bar Saray suggested. </p><p>“Cheers to our deal, Zule. We’re rich again.” </p><p>The sound of their clinking glasses is drowned out by the noise of other people talking, loud music through the speakers and the bartender yelling ‘two shots!’ right next to them. </p><p>“Not yet,” the brunette responds. “We <em> have </em>the stuff, but we still have to sell it.” </p><p>“Oh come on,” the younger woman complains. “This was the most difficult part of everything. Let yourself go for once.”</p><p>Zulema bites her lip. “I can’t. I’m just- I’m going fucking crazy, Saray,” she sighs and takes a sip of her drink. Saray looks at her, slightly confused. “Why? What’s going on?” Zulema swallows the liquid and grimaces at the taste of pure alcohol. “I’m tense. All the fucking time. And I don’t know how to get rid of it,” the scorpion sighs. “I’ve tried sleeping more, or just staying up all night. I’ve listened to music, watched movies, and recently I’ve been swimming every day. But nothing works.” </p><p>Saray takes a sip of her own drink before setting it back down on the bar. “I know perfectly well what’s wrong with you,” she says and pauses for a second to make the older woman look at her, before she continues. “You just need to get laid, Zule.” </p><p>The brunette sets her glass down on the bar too. “You’re on thin ice, <em> gitana. </em> I’m not getting into any relationship and you know that.” Saray immediately raises both her hands up in defense. “Slow down. I’m not talking about any relationship.” She watches as Zulema picks up her glass again, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. “I know something for you,” she offers. “There’s a club called <em> Libertad, </em>not far away from here. It looks like a house of prostitution, which it actually sort of is, but-“</p><p>“No.” Zulema shakes her head. “I’m not doing that.”</p><p>Saray laughs and gives Zulema a soft bump on her shoulder. “I knew you were gonna say that, Zule, but listen. Once you get inside, it actually looks like a club. There’s good music, good drinks,” she says, motioning towards their own drinks. “The only difference is that there are half-naked girls pole dancing and giving lap dances.”</p><p>Zulema raises an eyebrow. “No, Saray. No way.” </p><p>“Yes, Zule. Yes way,” the other woman responds. “You have to give it a chance.” </p><p>The brunette shifts in her seat. “And why would I?” </p><p>“You want to have a quick fuck, right? No strings attached? Well, guess what,” Saray continues, a smile already forming on her face just from thinking about it. ”You can choose any girl that works there. Just tell her what you want, and go do it.”</p><p>Zulema bites her lip. Saray remains quiet, knowing that her scorpion is at least considering the idea. She gives a last push. “It’s really easy, I promise. And if you don’t like it, then just don’t go again.” </p><p>The brunette looks away and picks up her glass, swallowing the rest of the liquid all at once.</p><p>“We’ll see.”</p><p>Saray smiles. This is her best friend’s way of saying yes.</p><p>“Let me know how it was.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The club is not too difficult to find. Although the entrance is small, the neon sign outside isn’t hard to miss. It reads <em> Libertad </em> in deep red, capital letters. Zulema notices a woman standing in the door opening, a cigarette in one hand, deep in thought. She walks up to her and tries to manage a smile. All of this is so unlike her; going to a club that is basically a house of prostitution, <em> knowing </em>that she’s gonna fuck someone, when she hasn’t slept with someone in years. </p><p>“Hey, good evening,” the woman greets her, standing up straight. “Can I see your ID?”</p><p>Zulema almost bursts out in laughter. “<em>Perdóname? </em>I’m thirty five, and although I’m not that tall, I’m pretty sure I don’t look like a twenty year old.” </p><p>The woman smiles politely. “I know. It’s just our procedure. Otherwise I’ll get in trouble,” she winks. Zulema reaches for her wallet, stored safely in the back pocket of her jeans. “Here you go.” She hands her ID to the woman, who quickly scans it with her eyes before giving it back. “All good. Is it your first time here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” </p><p>Zulema nods. “Yup. Mind telling me what to expect?” </p><p>“I would,” the woman replies. “but it’s more fun if you find out for yourself.” She pulls a few coins from her pocket and hands them to Zulema. “First drink is on the house. Have fun.”</p><p>The brunette takes the coins and watches as the woman holds the door open for her. The bass of the music playing over the speakers inside is immediately audible, and Zulema waits until the door falls closed behind her, standing still in the small hallway. Adrenaline runs through her veins and her heart starts beating faster - was this really a good idea? - until another door opens and the music gets louder. A man steps into the hallway and spots her, so he reaches back and holds the second door open for her. She can’t refuse. </p><p>“Thank you.” She moves past him and into the club.</p><p>The music is loud. All the lights are a soft shade of red and they flicker on and off to the beat of the song that’s playing. There’s a main stage in the middle against one of the back walls, and some small, round platforms with a dancing pole randomly spread around the rest of the club. Pressed against the walls on the sides are red velvet sofas, most of them already filled with groups or duos sitting comfortably, watching the show that’s going on. A big group of women is dancing on the main stage, and some are dancing solo on the small platforms. </p><p>Zulema finally spots the bar, a little to her right. A blonde bartender is leaning over the counter, watching the show as well. The brunette walks up to the bar and sits down on one of the bar stools, making eye contact with the blonde.</p><p>“Hey,” the woman greets her. “What can I get you?”</p><p>“I’ll have tequila,” Zulema replies, putting the coins she got from the woman at the door down on the counter. “Shots or cocktail?” the blonde asks.</p><p>“Uh,” she pauses. “Shots. And you can keep the bottle here, I’ll probably need a few.” </p><p>The blonde laughs, reaching for the bottle of tequila and a glass on the shelf behind her. She sets them down on the counter and pours the first shot. “So, it’s your first time here?”</p><p>Zulema takes the glass. “Is it that obvious? You’re the second one who’s said this.” The blonde hands her a salt shaker and a slice of lemon, but Zulema waves it away. </p><p>“Kind of, yeah,” the woman answers. “I’m Katia, by the way.” She holds out her hand and Zulema shakes it. “Zulema.” The brunette pulls back and immediately downs the first shot with a grimace on her face. “How did you know?” she questions, setting the glass back down on the bar and refilling it. Katia watches her movements. “Well, I don’t know everyone by name, but I recognize most of the people that come here. You’re not one of them. And you seem to need multiple tequila shots to feel somewhat at ease, so… deduction,” Katia smiles. </p><p>“Good guess,” Zulema replies, managing a smile. The blonde has made her feel at ease already, and the tequila will soon start doing its work as well. “So, why don’t you tell me how things work here?” </p><p>“Sure,” Katia replies. “There’s a show going on right now on the mainstage. That’s not always the case, but the women you see dancing on the smaller platforms, with the poles? Those platforms are always in use.” Zulema’s eyes fall on a blonde woman, who’s dancing on one of those small platforms. She’s wearing dark red lingerie that covers most of her private areas, but it’s lacey enough to give a glimpse of what’s underneath. </p><p>“Who’s that blonde over there?” </p><p>Katia follows her gaze. “That’s Maca,” she replies. “Short for Macarena.” She glances at Zulema, shortly studying the brunette’s face. “You like her?” </p><p>“Hm,” Zulema tears her eyes away from the blonde and tries to act innocent. “She looks okay.” </p><p>Katia smiles knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it. “If you want to,” she continues, “you can meet up with any of these women in one of the rooms upstairs. We have different options, I don’t know what you have in mind?”</p><p>Zulema downs another shot before she answers. “Me neither,” she replies. “What are my options?” </p><p>“Well, we have a system. Bronze, silver and gold. If you choose bronze, you get fifteen minutes of time with a woman of your choice. You’re only allowed to have oral sex, though. If you choose silver, you get twenty minutes and you’re free to do anything. The best one is gold, which will give you thirty minutes to do anything,” she finishes with a smile. “And the better you choose, the more expensive it is, obviously.” </p><p>Zulema looks away from Katia and her eyes fall on Macarena again. The blonde is just in the middle of a double spin around the pole and this gives the brunette the pleasure of seeing the muscles of her arms, tightening with the effort of holding her up. Her feet touch the floor again and she raises her eyes, meeting those of Zulema. </p><p>Everything around them seems to stop for a second. Where Macarena shivers at the visible attraction in the eyes of a dangerous looking brunette sitting on one of the bar stools, Zulema shivers at the seductive look in the blonde’s eyes. But not even five seconds into their staring battle, the slow song that was playing over the speakers switches to a more upbeat one, and it breaks the moment of tension between them. Zulema lowers her eyes. Macarena takes a breath, tearing her eyes away from the brunette and continuing her dance. </p><p>“With Maca, I’d go for gold.” </p><p>Katia interrupts the brunette’s thoughts. Zulema plays with the hem of her shirt, not ready to face the blonde behind the bar just yet. </p><p>“She works with both men and women and it looks like she’s free right now, so ...” Katia trails off, waiting for the brunette to look at her. It’s clear that Zulema wants to, but it’s also her first time here. Everything’s uneasy.</p><p>Eventually, Zulema lifts her head. “Fine. Gold it is, then.” Katia smiles. “I’ll go get her for you.” She turns away and walks to the other side of the bar, the side that’s closest to the platform where Macarena is dancing. “Maca!” she calls out, immediately getting the blonde’s attention. Katia motions for her to come over with her hand, and Macarena nods, motioning ‘<em>I’ll be right there</em>’ back at her. </p><p>Zulema is in the middle of downing her third shot when Katia comes back. “She’s on her way.” </p><p>“Okay,” the brunette replies. “Pay beforehand, I assume?” Katia nods, accepting the brunette’s cash and stocking it in one of the registers. Zulema feels that the alcohol is hitting her now, and it’s <em> perfect. </em>Just enough to feel more confident, not too much to actually feel drunk. “I have a request,” Zulema says. “Do I discuss that with you or her?” </p><p>Katia smiles. “You’ll have to discuss that with her. The same goes for her rules; every woman who works here has her own rules about touching, kissing, et cetera. Just ask her and she’ll tell you.”</p><p>Macarena appears behind Katia and wraps her arms around the blonde bartender. <em> “Hola, guapa,” </em> she presses a kiss to the blonde’s shoulder before letting go again. “What’s up?” </p><p>Katia points at Zulema. “You have a date, <em> rubia. </em> Gold.” </p><p>Macarena’s eyes fall onto the brunette. It doesn’t take her longer than a second to realize that this is the woman who was staring at her a few minutes ago, when she was still dancing on the stage. This is the brunette who looked so dangerous from a distance, and still looks a bit intimidating from up close.</p><p>She shares a look with Katia before rounding the bar and walking up to the brunette. “I’m Macarena.” They slowly shake hands, a noticeable tension already between them. “Zulema.” The brunette hops off her bar stool and is glad to see that she stands a little taller than Macarena on her combat boots. It gives her a sense of power. </p><p>“Is 105 free?” Macarena asks Katia, who nods immediately. “I’ve checked already. You’re good to go.” They share another smile before Maca turns her attention towards Zulema again. “Follow me, please.” </p><p>The brunette follows Macarena through a door in the back that leads into a different, bigger hallway with a set of stairs. Zulema can’t resist stealing a few glances at the blonde’s shoulders and back, which are completely bare. Macarena stops in front of the stairs. “You have to go first. It’s a rule, sorry,” she adds, when Zulema doesn’t look too pleased. The brunette gives in - not that she has a choice - and walks up the stairs, waiting at the top for Macarena. The blonde motions towards their right. “At the end of this hallway, the room on the left.” </p><p>Zulema follows the hallway until the end and opens the door of room 105. She walks inside, holding the door open for Macarena with her hand. “That woman behind the bar, is she your girlfriend?” Zulema asks. She really can’t help herself. Macarena smiles, closing the door behind her. “Katia? No, we’re just affectionate with each other. And I have a boyfriend,” she adds. </p><p>“Hm,” Zulema mumbles. She buries her hands in her pockets and takes in the room. A king sized bed with white sheets is pushed against the wall. In the corner, a red velvet chair stands, next to a small table with two glasses on it. A bottle of fresh water accompanies the two glasses. </p><p>“Gold, I heard?” Macarena asks, seeing how the brunette turns back to face her. “Yeah,” Zulema says. “I have a request, though. Katia said I needed to discuss that with you.” </p><p>“She can be difficult sometimes,” Maca rolls her eyes. “She knows exactly what I want and don’t want. Anyway, what is it?”</p><p>Zulema’s eyes linger on the blonde’s chest, before they travel back up to meet her eyes. It’s now or never, and the alcohol gives her the last bit of courage she needs.</p><p>“I want to fuck <em> you, </em> instead of the other way around.” </p><p>Macarena is taken aback by this. The brunette can’t be serious. “You’re paying … so you can fuck me?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Zulema nods. The already present tension only gets worse during the silence that follows the brunette’s confirmation. </p><p>“But … what about your pleasure?” Macarena asks. </p><p>Zulema is quick to answer. “I find pleasure in fucking others. Women, specifically.” </p><p>The blonde has to take a deep breath at that. A request like this is something she didn’t expect, although she could’ve known better. From the moment their eyes met back downstairs in the club, she’d known something about this woman was different.</p><p>“Okay,” she replies, not missing how Zulema’s eyes are travelling back down her body again. It makes her feel wanted. Sexy. The brunette’s stare is nothing like the stares of the men she usually gets. It’s more intense, and Maca can’t wait to find out what this woman can do. She runs one hand through her blonde locks, catching the brunette’s attention immediately, and Zulema realizes she should probably do something now.</p><p>"What am I allowed to do?" she asks, while she removes her hands from her pockets and sits down on the edge of the bed. Looking up at the blonde woman who remains standing up, very confidently, in her distracting deep red lingerie.</p><p>"Everything," Macarena replies, a soft smile playing on her lips. She's just met this woman, and although the brunette feels slightly dangerous and unpredictable, Macarena trusts her. "Just don't restrain me. I need to be free to move anytime," she continues, slowly moving towards Zulema. "But I doubt you'll do something I don't like. Women are usually better than men." </p><p>She sits down on the brunette’s lap, facing her, with her knees resting on either side of the older woman’s hips.</p><p>“Oh,” Maca realizes, now their faces are closer, “No kissing either. It’s too intimate.”</p><p>Zulema’s hands come up to rest on the blonde’s hips. Her skin is soft and warm. It invites her to run her hands up Maca’s back, moving over her bra strap, reaching her shoulders. “Fine,” the brunette replies. “No kissing.” She slides both bra straps down Macarena’s shoulders at the same time, and the blonde helps her by reaching behind her own back and undoing her bra. She drops it on the floor behind her, shamelessly exposing herself to the brunette. </p><p>Zulema has to bite back a moan at the sight. A hot blonde sitting in her lap, her hands resting on Zulema’s shoulders. And the brunette is completely free to do whatever she wants with her. </p><p>She grips Macarena’s hips tightly and flips them over so she’s on top. They’re still too close to the edge of the bed, though. “Move up,” the brunette says, and Macarena complies by pushing herself up on her elbows and moving up the bed until she can rest her head on the pillow. Her entire body tingles with anticipation as the brunette crawls up the bed and hovers over her, dark green eyes scanning her face.</p><p>“I’m allowed to do anything, right?” Zulema asks again, just to be sure. The blonde has boundaries and she doesn’t want to cross them.</p><p>“Anything,” Macarena replies, her eyes hinting at the brunette seductively. Zulema feels the desire take over and she leans in, her eyes flickering down to the blonde’s neck. </p><p>There was a time, years ago, when Zulema and Saray would go out every week and pick up women to sleep with. Now, Saray is in a steady relationship and Zulema hasn’t felt the need to go out. But this doesn’t mean that Zulema has forgotten all of the skills she’s learned over the years. </p><p>Her tongue trails over Macarena’s neck up to her ear, while her right hand makes her way down the soft skin of the blonde’s stomach. Macarena’s breath hitches when Zulema’s tongue crosses a sensitive point on her neck, and the brunette is quick to pick up on this. She bites down on the skin, drawing a soft moan from the blonde, before soothing the bite with her tongue again.</p><p>When she pulls back a little, Zulema notices two small bruises on the side of her neck. They’re no bigger than a fingertip and a barely noticeable yellow color.</p><p>“What’s this?” she asks, slowly running a finger over them.</p><p>Macarena’s light green eyes find hers for a second before she looks away again. “Oh, that’s nothing. Just a rough client. I should’ve told him off,” she smiles, but the tremble in her voice is too evident for Zulema. She can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s just arousal? She’s only known this woman for a few minutes, so she can’t really tell. And Zulema decides it’s none of her business anyway.</p><p>She presses a soft kiss to the barely visible bruise, the move eliciting a shiver from the blonde woman under her. The hand on Macarena’s stomach makes its way up again and cups her bare breast, making the blonde arch up into her touch. She squeezes softly with her hand, while her lips trail down Maca’s neck, over her collarbone and her chest, until they wrap around her nipple.</p><p>“Fuck,” the blonde moans out loud, throwing her head back. Zulema is rough and gentle at the same time, and it’s been <em> long </em> since someone touched her like this. One of her hands slides into Zulema’s hair and pushes her down her stomach, where she needs her. The brunette’s lips are still on their way down and kissing the skin near her belly button when Maca feels it; the light touch of Zulema’s fingertips running up the inside of her thigh, higher and higher, until they reach her center.</p><p>Zulema smiles at the wetness she feels there. <em> The effect she has on women. </em> “You’re this wet? It’s only been five minutes,” she mocks, looking up at the blonde’s face. “Shut up,” Macarena shoots back, a smile playing on her lips. She shivers when Zulema’s lips move back up her body, and she’s just about to complain, when-</p><p>“Oh <em> god.</em>”</p><p>The fingertips that were tracing her thigh earlier are rubbing fast circles over her clit, immediately causing waves of pleasure to run through her body. “Inside,” she breathes, opening her eyes to look at Zulema.</p><p>“Already?” the brunette asks. Not that she’s complaining, though. “Yes,” Macarena’s answer is quick, her eyes never leaving Zulema’s. She tries to hold that intense gaze, even when she feels the brunette position her fingers in front of her entrance. The battle is lost, however, when two long fingers slide inside of her at once.</p><p>Zulema watches with pleasure as Maca’s eyes roll back, her lips part with a soft moan and her brow furrows.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. Saray was right, this is exactly what she needs. </em>
</p><p>The brunette starts moving her hand and sees the muscles of the blonde’s stomach flutter, while she lets out another moan. </p><p>“You’re so good,” Macarena breathes, wrapping her fingers around Zulema’s free wrist and pulling her hand up towards her breast again. Zulema smiles. “I know.” Her answer is cocky, and to be honest, Macarena didn’t expect anything else from this woman. She actually finds that it turns her on even more.</p><p>“Don’t stop.” </p><p>Zulema leans over the blonde while her hand continues working between their bodies and licks her earlobe. “Don’t stop what? Touching you? Talking to you?” Her hand leaves Macarena’s breast to push some strands of hair out of the way. The blonde arches up into her touch, one arm wrapping around the brunette’s still clothed back. “Both,” she breathes.</p><p>Zulema smiles. “You love it when I talk to you?” she whispers, her mouth against the blonde’s ear. The blonde lets out a whimper in response, and Zulema feels nails pressing down on her back. “Sounds like a yes.” The brunette curls her two fingers upwards. “Good to know. Are you gonna come for me already?” </p><p>Macarena moans, even louder, and arches her back. “Almost,” she manages. Zulema can tell by the way the blonde is tightening around her fingers. She smiles into Maca’s neck, pressing another kiss to the sweaty skin there. “Good. I want to feel you when you come.”</p><p>The blonde’s breath hitches and she throws her head all the way back, exposing her throat to Zulema. The brunette makes good use of this and kisses right underneath her chin, trailing down to her collarbone. She feels Macarena’s breathing get faster, the skin under her lips raising and falling quickly now. “I can feel you’re right there, <em> rubia</em>. Come for me.” </p><p>Macarena cries out and her body goes completely still for a few seconds, before she falls over the edge. Her nails break the skin of Zulema’s back, and although the brunette flinches, she finds that it turns her on as well. She watches as the blonde lets out a few more moans and her body continues twitching until eventually, Maca’s breathing slows down and so do her movements. Zulema sees this as her sign to slowly pull out and she sits up straight to give the blonde some space. She looks from her soaked fingers up at Macarena, and the blonde knows what she’s gonna do before she does it. </p><p>The two fingers that were inside of her a few seconds ago disappear into Zulema’s mouth, and Macarena’s breath hitches at the sight. The brunette sucks them clean while her eyes never leave Macarena’s, before she gets up off the bed. </p><p>The blonde pushes up on her elbows, curiously following the brunette with her eyes. “Are you done? We still have time.” She mentally rolls her eyes at herself for sounding so eager. Zulema smirks. “That good, huh? I’m surprised <em> you’re </em>not done.” </p><p>Macarena gets up off the bed, still wearing nothing more than her panties, and stands in front of Zulema. The brunette’s eyes drop down to her chest before they meet hers again.</p><p>“You think I can’t handle more?” Maca counters.</p><p>She can see in the brunette’s eyes that Zulema wasn’t prepared for this answer. And the brunette herself definitely isn’t prepared for the images that immediately flood her mind. <em> Macarena laying on her back, maybe even tied up by her wrists, while Zulema gets to fuck her senseless. The blonde will beg her to stop, but Zulema knows that this isn’t all she can take. There’s more. And it’s hers.  </em></p><p>The brunette squints her eyes. “That’s for another day to find out.” She watches as Macarena picks up her bra from the floor and puts it back on.</p><p>“So, that means I’ll see you again?” the blonde asks.</p><p>
  <em> Please say yes. </em>
</p><p>“Hm,” Zulema starts, pretending to think. “I still have to taste you, so…” She raises her eyebrows and laughs when her response renders Maca unable to think. “When are you here?” </p><p>The blonde finds her voice again. “Always,” she replies. "During the week, I'm here every day from 12PM to 10PM. If I'm taking an extra shift, it's a Saturday evening, like today."</p><p>Zulema nods. “<em>Vale. </em>I’ll see you another time then.” Her hand reaches for the door knob, but she turns back once more. Her eyes scan Macarena again, not getting enough of her body. She meets light green eyes that are looking at her expectantly. “Besides,” Zulema comments, “that color looks good on you.”</p><p>Before Macarena has the chance to say thank you, the brunette has already disappeared back into the hallway.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. time's up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*trigger warning* for this chapter: mentions physical abuse.</p><p>this chapter is still mostly ✨ nsfw ✨ stuff. but really, what did you expect from a prostitution fic? anyway, i promise this entire story won’t just be about sex. the plot will develop over the next few chapters, please give it some time :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No, I’m not telling you how I fucked her.”</p><p>Zulema opens the door that leads to her roof terrace, Saray following right behind her.</p><p>“Come on, Zule,” the other woman complains. “I want to know the details!” </p><p>Zulema’s roof terrace overlooks Madrid, and she’s hung up a string of small light bulbs as a decoration for the late summer evenings. They walk towards the two chairs that stand next to Zulema’s swimming pool; the brunette has a small pool that gives her just enough space for a morning swim, but it isn’t big enough to raise suspicion. She’s a drug dealer, after all. The last thing she wants is attention from the wrong people. </p><p>“Saray, I’m not telling you. It’s none of your business.” Zulema gets two beer cans from the small freezer next to the door and hands one to her best friend, before they both sit down in the chairs.</p><p>“It’s very much my business,” the <em> gitana </em>replies. “I sent you there. I just want you to tell me about your experience. And since you’re this secretive, it seems like you had fun.” </p><p>Zulema scoffs. “How would you know?” She watches as Saray opens her beer can and takes a swig.</p><p>“Because,” the younger woman starts. “If you didn’t like it, you would’ve gone off about how shit the place was, what a terrible evening you had, et cetera. And you haven’t yet.” </p><p>Zulema looks away and opens her own beer can. She doesn’t respond. </p><p>“Just tell me. What did she look like?” Saray tries again. If anyone else had been asking these questions, had been pushing so hard, Zulema would have put them in their place already. But the scorpion has one true friend and that’s Saray. The younger woman knows that Zulema will give in eventually.</p><p>She takes another swig of her beer before answering. “Blonde. A bit shorter than I am, but if I’m not wearing my shoes, we’re probably about the same height.” Saray smiles at the description. “She’s strong, as in ‘I can pull myself up this pole without it taking any effort’ strong,” Zulema describes. “And really fucking gorgeous.” </p><p>Saray looks at her best friend somewhat incredulously. The older woman is usually not one to describe people as <em> fucking gorgeous</em>. She lets it go though, because it wouldn’t do any good to mention it. “Hm,” she starts. “Sound like it was a good night, then? Are you planning on going again?” </p><p>Zulema looks out over the city, admiring the way the sun has set and the first lights have been switched on in the apartments of buildings near them.</p><p><em>Is</em> she going again? She’d said yes to the blonde, but doing all of this somehow feels dangerous. </p><p>She turns towards Saray, who has just finished her beer.</p><p>“Do you think it could harm our business? What if I meet someone there who knows who I am? Or I could run into an old enemy, you never know.” </p><p>The younger woman smiles sympathetically. “I doubt you’ll meet someone who knows who you are,” she replies. “Besides, it’s not like you’re taking drugs there. They won’t be able to prove anything.”</p><p>Zulema sighs. “But it’s still dangerous. What do I tell her if she asks what I do?” </p><p>“Nothing,” Saray replies. “You don’t owe her an explanation. It’s just a quick fuck.”</p><p>Zulema finishes her own beer all at once. She doesn’t respond. </p><p>“There’s always something that could go wrong,” Saray says. She pushes herself up from the chair and walks over to the railing, resting her arms on the concrete and looking out over the city. </p><p>“But what’s life without a little risk?” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em> Boring, </em> Zulema thinks as she turns around the corner and walks into the street where <em> Libertad </em> is located. <em> That’s what life would be if you didn’t take risks. </em></p><p>There’s a short line outside the door despite the fact that it’s a Thursday evening, and it takes a few minutes before the brunette gets in.</p><p>She makes her way into the club and immediately spots Katia behind the bar, talking to a customer. The brunette scans the room, looking for another blonde who’s the reason why she’s coming to this place again.</p><p>Ah. There she is.</p><p>Sitting on one of the red velvet sofas on the side next to a man, who has his hand on her thigh. Zulema watches the interaction between the two of them closely, smiling when the man leans in and Macarena pulls away, excusing herself and probably explaining how she doesn’t kiss clients. The man seems to apologize, but doesn’t remove his hand from her thigh. Zulema doesn’t like it. </p><p>She walks up to them, close enough to not be noticed by anyone else, but just enough for Macarena to notice. The blonde lifts her eyes and is met by familiar deep green ones, and she immediately feels a rush of arousal run through her body. Zulema continues watching her while Maca turns to the man sitting next to her and points in the direction of Zulema. She says she needs to go and gets up, a polite smile on her face as an excuse. He doesn’t like it. Zulema loves it. </p><p>When the brunette sees that Macarena is making her way towards her, she turns around and walks towards the bar. The blonde will follow, she's sure of it. She sits down on one of the bar stools and signals Katia, who puts up her hand as an indication that she's seen it. </p><p>It's then that she feels a hand on her shoulder, accompanied by a familiar voice greeting her. </p><p>"Hi."</p><p>The brunette finally turns around to face the other woman. Macarena looks gorgeous, once again, in a light blue spaghetti top that's long enough to cover her panties, but short enough to leave nothing else to the imagination. </p><p>"Hey yourself," Zulema replies. Macarena's hand lingers on her shoulder for a little longer until she pulls it away, sitting down on the empty bar stool next to Zulema. </p><p>"You came back," she says. Unnecessary, but she doesn't know how else she can break the silence between them. </p><p>Zulema shrugs. "I guess I did." </p><p>Macarena lifts her hand to push a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "To be honest, I didn't expect to see you again," she confesses. Her hand drops back down into her lap. </p><p>Zulema meets her eyes. "I didn't expect to come back, either," she replies, surprises at how easy the words seem to leave her mouth. "But here we are." </p><p>Katia has been watching the interaction between the two women from a distance. She notices how the brunette's hands twitch almost unnoticeably from time to time, almost as if she wants to reach out for Macarena. The blonde, usually very confident about her appearance, shifts in her seat every time Zulema's eyes fall on her. She can tell there's already something more going on between these two, whether they notice it themselves or not. </p><p>“Zulema, tequila?” Katia leans over the bar, making eye contact with the brunette.</p><p>The brunette bites her lip and looks at Macarena, before she shakes her head. “No, I’ve changed my mind. Let’s not waste time.” She hops off her bar stool and looks at Macarena, who does the same. The blonde is wearing heels, which makes her the same height as Zulema. The brunette finds that she doesn’t mind, although she usually likes to be taller. It gives her a sense of power. </p><p>“Same as last time?” Maca asks, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She wants to spend as much time with the brunette as possible. Relief floods her body when Zulema nods.</p><p>“Definitely. Katia?” Zulema hands the money to the blonde behind the bar, who puts it in one of the cash registers with a smile. “Have fun, ladies.”</p><p>Macarena blushes when her friend gives her a wink, knowing exactly what’s gonna happen. She had told Katia all about her visit with Zulema, and the bartender had laughed when Macarena couldn’t stop talking about how good she was. </p><p>The blonde feels a hand - more like a light touch, barely there - on the small of her back and turns to see Zulema, guiding her towards the door. “Same room?” the brunette asks, and Macarena nods. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Within two minutes, they find themselves back in room 105. Maca climbs onto the bed first and takes off her heels, while she waits for Zulema to take off her own boots. She puts them in the corner and walks towards the blonde, but a question stops her. </p><p>“And your shirt?” Macarena asks, a smile playing on her lips. “Are you gonna leave that on every time?”</p><p>The brunette stares at her for a few seconds in complete silence with an unreadable look on her face.</p><p>Just when Macarena is sure the other woman is going to say no, Zulema grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head in one smooth motion. Although there’s just a simple, black bra covering her chest, the blonde can’t stop staring. Until Zulema reminds her what she came here for.</p><p>“My eyes are up here, <em> rubia.</em>”</p><p>The brunette walks over to the bed and climbs on top of Macarena, one knee on each side of the blonde’s legs. “Now you.” She reaches for Macarena’s top and the blonde complies, sitting up and letting the older woman pull it off to reveal the same, dark red bra as she wore last time. </p><p>Zulema smiles at this. “Coincidence?” She reaches out to touch the lacey fabric, making the other woman shiver.</p><p>“You really want to know?” Macarena asks. “I’ve been wearing and washing this every day since I saw you, to make sure I’d be prepared if you decided to come again.” </p><p>The brunette bites her lip. <em> Fuck. She’s perfect. </em>Her other hand comes up as well, and they both cup Maca’s breasts over the fabric before they slide down her slides, making their way towards her hips. When they’ve almost reached their destination, Macarena flinches slightly. This does not go unnoticed by the brunette. Her eyes follow where her hands have been, and they fall onto something that doesn’t belong there.</p><p>The skin just above Maca's hip bone has colored a dark shade of purple. The shape of the bruise is strange, and the brunette’s hand moves up again to touch it. </p><p>“Zulema,” Macarena protests, her body tensing up when she realizes what the other woman has noticed. “Don’t.” </p><p>“How did this happen?” Zulema pulls away and sits back on her legs, staring at the blonde. “This is not just a rough client.”</p><p>Macarena swallows.</p><p>
  <em> Don’t tell her.  </em>
</p><p>“I bumped into the-”</p><p>“Don’t lie to me.” </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>The blonde leans back on her hands, looking up at the brunette. Zulema remains in her position with one leg on either side of Macarena, sitting back on them. </p><p>“It’s …,” Maca starts, but immediately hesitates. The woman in front of her is a stranger. A client, nothing more. She’s met her once and yes, she’s good in bed, but they definitely aren’t friends. However, her self-control falters when she sees the look on Zulema’s face. It’s still dangerous, but there’s something softer in it now. Worry, maybe?</p><p>“<em>Dime</em>,” Zulema demands. </p><p>Whatever remained of the blonde’s self-control flies out the window at the tone of Zulema’s voice. </p><p>“It was my boyfriend,” she says. “Miguel. We had an argument.” </p><p>Zulema raises her eyebrows. “Having an argument means hitting you?” </p><p>“He was just stressed.” Macarena lowers her eyes. “He said he didn’t mean to.”</p><p>Zulema nearly growls at this. She doesn’t know Maca’s boyfriend, but she already wants to kill him. Not because she has feelings for the blonde in front of her, definitely not, but because she doesn’t understand how a person can lay his hands on such a gorgeous woman. </p><p>Her eyes drop down to the bruise again, before she reaches out and strokes over it with her finger. “Does he do this often?”</p><p>The blonde shakes her head. “No, Miguel never does this,” she lies. All she can do is hope that it doesn’t show on her face. “And he promised me it won’t happen again. I’m fine, really. It’ll pass.” </p><p>Zulema wants to argue. She knows what abuse is - this definitely looks like it - and wants to say that it doesn’t just pass. She knows that. She’s been there. </p><p>They promise you it won’t happen again, except it does. More often and more painful every time. Yet you believe them, because they’re your significant other, and they would never hurt you on purpose, right? </p><p>“Other clients haven’t noticed?” </p><p>Maca shakes her head again. “No. Not all of them are as observant as you,” she says. “And if they do notice, I make up an excuse like I just did. They always believe me.” </p><p>Zulema bites her lip. On the one hand, she wants to continue talking about this. But on the other hand, they’re not friends, and the only thing Zulema wants out of this is relaxation and relief. No deep conversations. Besides, it’s not her job to keep Maca safe. </p><p>“Can I still touch you?” </p><p>Her eyes flicker up towards Maca’s again.</p><p>“Yes,” the blonde replies. “It’s what you’re paying for. And I feel safe with you.” </p><p>Zulema scoffs. “Don’t go all soft on me now, <em> rubia. </em>You know this is just fucking, right? No feelings.” </p><p>The blonde doesn’t answer this, but instead removes her hands from the bed and wraps her arms around Zulema’s back. Skin on skin. She pulls the brunette closer, until their faces are close enough that she only has to whisper her next words. </p><p>“Fuck me then.” </p><p>Zulema’s eyes darken immediately. After a few seconds of silence, she pushes against Maca’s shoulders, causing her to fall down onto her back. </p><p>“Gladly.” </p><p>She climbs over the blonde’s body and holds up two fingers in front of the blonde’s lips, who obediently opens her mouth and starts sucking on them. Zulema can’t help that her eyes fall shut at the feeling. She shivers as Macarena’s tongue circles around one of her fingers before biting down. Her eyes fly open at the movement and she meets light green ones, looking a little guilty and a lot turned on.</p><p>Zulema bites her lip and eventually pulls her fingers from the blonde’s mouth, before she runs them down Maca’s chin and her neck, into the valley of her breasts. Zulema’s mouth follows the same path as her fingers. The blonde’s breath hitches. </p><p>The older woman motions for her to lift, so she can pull Maca’s bra off, her panties following quickly. The brunette takes a short second to admire the naked body in front of her before she leans in, presses a kiss in between the blonde’s breasts, and moves down. </p><p>“What are you …? You don’t have to.”</p><p>Macarena stumbles over her words, but her mind keeps saying <em> please, please do this. </em></p><p>Miguel is long forgotten. The brunette with her strong hands and deep green eyes is the only thing on her mind right now. </p><p>Zulema looks up from between her legs, eyes twinkling.</p><p>“I told you I still had to taste you.”</p><p>The blonde doesn’t have time to reply. All that comes out is a moan when Zulema runs her tongue through her wetness for the first time, tasting her. She circles her clit once before going down, teasing her entrance and sliding inside with just the tip of her tongue. It makes the blonde shiver immediately. “<em>Please.</em>” </p><p>Zulema mumbles disapprovingly. “Not yet,” she says, her tongue moving back up to tease the blonde’s clit again. Macarena moans, and Zulema feels a hand slide into her hair. She decides to allow it and slides one of her own hands up Macarena’s body, cupping a breast. Another loud moan tells her that she must be doing something right. She actually wants to fuck the blonde with her fingers, but it seems that Macarena is enjoying this too much. </p><p>“<em>Fuck- Zulema,” </em>Maca’s back arches when the brunette’s tongue hits a right spot. Zulema notices immediately and doesn’t move away, flicking her tongue over and over again.</p><p>Macarena tries to tell her not to stop; she can’t find her voice, but her tightening grip on Zulema’s hair says enough. </p><p>The brunette looks up at the younger woman - head thrown back, lips parted, short breaths and occasional moans leaving her mouth - and Zulema knows that this is exactly what she needs to relax. Right now, nothing else matters except the taste of Macarena on her tongue and the moans that are leaving the blonde’s mouth. </p><p>Macarena notices that the other woman has stopped and thrusts her hips up towards Zulema’s mouth. “Please,” she breathes. Zulema licks her lips, smiling. “So fucking eager.” She lowers her eyes and focuses on her task - making the blonde come as soon as possible so she can finally be inside her. </p><p>It doesn’t take long until Macarena is moaning constantly, each one slightly louder than the previous. Her thighs tense up, already trembling with what seems to be the beginning of her orgasm. Zulema’s arms are wrapped around these trembling thighs, and she uses her strength to keep them open when the blonde tries to push them together. </p><p>“Oh- Fuck!” Macarena moans again. Zulema makes an approving noise in response, tightening her grip around the blonde’s thighs. She doesn’t stop the movements of her tongue, and then, she’s finally rewarded.</p><p>“I’m- I’m coming,” Macarena breathes, right before going completely silent, the hand in Zulema’s hair pulling her impossibly closer. The brunette can’t help but steal a glance at the blonde mid-orgasm. Her entire body tensed up, mouth open in a silent moan. Zulema feels a rush of adrenaline run through her body at the sight.</p><p>She loves seeing women in pleasure. </p><p>Macarena lets out some more, breathier moans, while her orgasm continues to roll through her body in waves. After a few seconds, she pulls on Zulema’s hair to signal that it’s getting too much and the brunette slows down before eventually moving away. She slides her hands back underneath Maca’s thighs, releasing her. </p><p>Zulema wipes her mouth on her arm before crawling up the blonde’s body, which trembles with aftershocks from time to time. She still has her eyes closed and this gives the brunette the perfect opportunity to study her face.</p><p>Macarena isn’t wearing much makeup compared to the other women in here, but that doesn’t stop her from looking gorgeous. Even post-orgasm when she’s out of breath and all sweaty.</p><p>Zulema leans on her left arm and slides her right down to Maca’s center again, but stops halfway. Is she allowed to do this? The blonde had never said anything about multiple orgasms when they talked about the rules. She doesn’t want to ruin the mood by asking if she’s <em> allowed </em> to, so the brunette goes for a different question. She positions two fingers at Maca’s entrance, not missing the quiet sigh from the blonde when she does this. </p><p>“Can you take more?”</p><p>Zulema waits and holds her two fingers ready to push inside, if Macarena says she can. The blonde opens her eyes. They’re still a bit hazy from her orgasm. Zulema loves it. But she doesn’t get the time to admire the younger woman for much longer, because Macarena reaches down with one hand and wraps it around Zulema’s wrist. </p><p>“Stop being so gentle with me,” she says, meeting dark green eyes. “I can handle it.” </p><p>The brunette’s eyes darken impossibly when she feels how Macarena pulls on her wrist, causing her two fingers to slip inside. </p><p>“Yeah? Can you handle me?” Zulema teases, immediately starting a rough rhythm. Macarena’s hand lets go of her wrist and falls onto the mattress, gripping the sheets until her knuckles turn white. “I can,” she breathes in response, in between thrusts. “Men aren’t gentle either.”</p><p>Although not every meeting with men is about sex, it’s always about their pleasure. So Macarena just lets them do whatever they want - to a certain extent - and most of them aren’t gentle. </p><p>“And women?” Zulema asks. “Do they fuck you like this, <em> rubia</em>?” </p><p>Macarena already has trouble breathing, let alone strength to answer these questions. Then, she feels the brunette slow down and her eyes fly open, a desperate look on her face. “No,” she answers quickly. “I don’t have that many women. And it’s still mostly about them.” Zulema bites her lip and resumes her thrusts, making the blonde cry out and dig her nails into her back. Macarena’s eyes fall shut again. </p><p>Her job is usually not like this - about her own pleasure - and that’s okay, but Macarena has almost forgotten how it feels to have her <em> own </em>pleasure in the center of attention. Men usually pay for lap dances and blowjobs. Women pay for sex. But it’s never about her. </p><p>Macarena runs her hands over the other woman’s back until she reaches her shoulders, holding onto them for support. She tries to pull Zulema closer, craving the physical contact, but the older woman refuses.</p><p>“Zulema,” the blonde tries and pulls on her again, opening her eyes when she still resists.</p><p>The brunette just looks at her, not stopping her movements.</p><p>“Do you get this intimate with all your clients?” </p><p>“I just-,” Macarena starts, struggling to answer. “I want you closer.” </p><p>“And why would I do that?” Zulema asks. </p><p>Macarena shivers and lets out another moan when Zulema curls her fingers. She bites down on her lip, trying to focus, and wills herself to maintain eye contact as she says her next words.</p><p>“Don't you want to feel me all around you when I come?”</p><p>There’s a slight hitch in the brunette’s movements, which lets Macarena know that her words have the desired effect. Zulema stares into her eyes for a few more seconds, before she finally lets herself be pulled even closer against the younger woman below her. <em> Puta rubia </em>and her confidence, she thinks to herself. But deep down, she knows she doesn’t mind. </p><p>Zulema curls her fingers and immediately feels the blonde’s nails digging into her shoulders. Now her lips are near Maca’s neck anyways, she presses a wet kiss to the skin there. The blonde gasps. One of her hands moves down, over Zulema’s bra strap and the bare skin below it, until it comes to rest in the small of her back.</p><p>“Please,” Maca breathes. She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for. But this is one of the few words that she’s able to think of. “I’m close. Oh <em> god.”  </em></p><p>Her voice is right near Zulema’s ear, and the brunette closes her eyes at the wave of arousal that hits her when the blonde moans like this. She can feel Maca tightening around her fingers and she smiles into the blonde’s neck. “That’s it. Come again for me.” </p><p>Macarena’s breathing stops for a second while her hands continue pulling on Zulema’s body, wanting <em> more more more </em>of the skin on hers.</p><p>Right in that moment, with the brunette’s voice in her ear and her skin under her hands, Macarena feels safe. For the first time in months, she feels completely safe and relaxed when she comes. So she lets go, knowing that the brunette will be there on the other side to catch her. </p><p>She comes relatively quietly, her orgasm overpowering each and every one of her senses. A breathy, high pitched moan is the only thing that leaves her mouth, but it’s enough for Zulema to let out a satisfied sigh as she feels the blonde come again. Too bad she can’t push herself up to look at the blonde’s face. Macarena’s grip on her body is so strong that she can barely move. The brunette decides to just keep moving her hand in between their bodies and keep pressing kisses to the sweaty skin of the blonde’s neck, until she feels the grip on her back loosen a little. </p><p>She takes this opportunity to pull back and push herself up on her elbow. The blonde is still breathing heavily. </p><p>“Maca.” </p><p>Lazy green eyes flutter open below her. </p><p>Zulema smiles at the sight. She loves being able to do this to women. </p><p>“Time’s up.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. hips don't lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>more plot at the end. same amount of sex throughout. 🤷🏼♀️</p><p>the songs that I used in this chapter are "Love Is A Bitch" by Two Feet and "Control You" by Movement. </p><p>enjoy ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One dreams about the other. Quietly, far away in the bliss of her dream world. Safe from everyone and everything. </p><p>The other stays up until 4AM, smoking cigarettes, thinking about the one. Just as quietly, but the thoughts in her head are way too loud. </p><p>One wakes up in the early morning at the feeling of a warm body pressed against hers. The feeling itself is not unwelcome, but the person who’s next to her is. If she closes her eyes and focuses hard enough, she can pretend it’s someone else. It feels a little better.</p><p>The other doesn’t wake up until the idea of having lunch sounds more appropriate than having breakfast. Going to bed late and living on the top floor of an apartment, with the main exit seven floors below and barely any noise from neighbours, does this to you. </p><p>The one leaves her house around eleven, ready to go to work for another twelve hour shift. Although it’s only day four without the other showing up, she secretly hopes that she’ll meet those dark green eyes again today.</p><p>The other leaves the house around five, in her Audi with dark windows, ready to sell the remainder of the stuff she picked up a week ago. Her best friend had done her half already, so now it’s time for her to meet up with each one of her contacts and exchange the white powder for real money.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She does not expect to be done so soon. It’s only 8:45PM when Zulema finishes her last deal and steps back into her car, pulling the door shut behind her. Her weapon slides back into its usual place - the glove compartment - and she rests her elbows on the steering wheel, thinking about anything she might have forgotten to do. This job has made her into a very cautious person; she’s always aware of what’s going on around her, if there are people watching her and if she spots police cars, obviously. It’s not easy being a criminal, and days like these always leave her tense and on edge. But she’s been feeling a lot better lately, thanks to a specific blonde woman. </p><p>Zulema presses the home button on her iPhone to make the screen light up and see the time again. 8:47PM. When the numbers show, she can almost hear the blonde’s words.</p><p>
  <em> “During the week, I'm here every day from 12PM-10PM.” </em>
</p><p>Zulema lowers her head and rests her forehead, just like her elbows, on the steering wheel. She’s not been able to get the blonde out of her head since the day they met each other inside <em> Libertad </em>and it frustrates her. It frustrates her because Macarena seems to be the perfect match for her, at least in bed. The blonde lets Zulema do what she wants, but teases and pushes back whenever she likes to. Challenging her. </p><p>She sits up again and turns the key in the ignition to start the car. No. This is not happening. She’s not going to allow herself to think like this. The entire reason why she went to this club is because she can’t get attached to someone. And she definitely can’t have relationships. Her job is too dangerous, and she’s been hurt too many times to even <em> think </em>about letting someone in again. No way. </p><p>Her car runs smoothly over the busy road, and she automatically finds herself calculating the distance from this point to <em> Libertad. </em> It’s only seven minutes, and Macarena should be there now. The decision is made as Zulema turns right, driving into the neighbourhood where she knows the club is located, while she tells herself that the reason behind her visit has nothing to do with wanting to see Macarena again. It’s just because she needs some stress relief after a day like today. It’s not because she actually <em> likes </em> the blonde. </p><p>Although, deep down, she knows all those excuses she’s making up in her head are straight up lies. </p><p>She parks two streets away from the club in case anyone sees her and walks the remaining distance to the entrance, meeting the woman who let her in the first time. Although she still thinks it’s unnecessary, she lets the woman check her ID and walks into the small hallway a few seconds later. The door falls shut behind her, and she’s left alone with her thoughts. </p><p>What if Macarena will be the first person who’s right for her? What if the blonde can break through the walls she’s built around her heart after having been hurt too many times? </p><p>Zulema shakes her head at herself. No. Stress relief. </p><p>The noise of the music inside gets louder when the door that leads into the club opens and two girls stumble into the hallway, giggling. Zulema passes them and walks inside. Adrenaline is still running through her veins from the events of today, and it makes dealing with the nervousness of coming here - yes, this place is still way out of her comfort zone - a little easier. </p><p>The club is pretty busy for a weeknight. There seems to be a pole dancing show going on, which could definitely explain the amount of people. Zulema doesn’t spot Maca right away, but she does spot a free sofa a little to her left. Taking advantage of this, she sits down on the red velvet piece of furniture and puts one leg over the other, resting the side of her right foot on her left knee. </p><p>The song changes into a slow, sensual one. Other women step onto the platforms, and the few pieces of clothing they’re wearing are lacy and see through. <em>Oh come on</em>, Zulema thinks to herself, <em> really? </em>She scans the room again, looking for the blonde. </p><p>
  <em> I'm flyin' </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm flyin' high like a bird </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But my fluttering wings can't keep you from pullin' me down </em>
</p><p>Her eyes finally find Macarena. She’s among the women standing on the small platforms in the room. <em> Fuck. </em>She’s slowly walking around the pole in the middle, holding onto it with one hand. The brunette is distracted by her body at first; Macarena is only wearing a thin white top that ends just below her ribs and a pair of matching, lacey underwear with stockings. Zulema lets her eyes slide over the blonde’s legs, stomach and breasts until they come to rest on her face. </p><p>Macarena is already looking at her. </p><p>
  <em> Your mama </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Your mama says I'm a fool </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you </em>
</p><p>Zulema realizes that the other woman is playbacking to the song that’s playing through the speakers. Her eyes focus on the blonde’s lips, but have to look elsewhere when the blonde continues her dance. The brunette’s eyes follow Macarena as she drops to the floor, before sensually curling herself around the pole and pulling herself up again. Their eyes meet once more. </p><p>
  <em> I'm tryin' </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm tryin' not to forget my words </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 'Cause when I'm around you I tend to keep changin' my mind </em>
</p><p>Zulema feels a shiver run down her spine at the look in Macarena’s eyes. They both know very well what’s going through Zulema’s mind right now. And the brunette can read it in Maca’s eyes so clearly, it’s almost as if she’s saying it out loud.</p><p>
  <em> Take me. I’m all yours.   </em>
</p><p>The dance takes way too long for Zulema’s liking. She doesn’t mind looking at the blonde, but she just wants her here.</p><p>As if Macarena knows exactly what she’s thinking, she steps off the platform the second her dance is over, meeting the brunette’s eyes in a silent agreement. Zulema points her finger at Maca and motions towards the sofa she’s sitting on. </p><p>
  <em> Get over here.  </em>
</p><p>On her way to Zulema, the blonde is approached by at least four different men, asking if she’s free right now. She shakes her head at every single one and points in the direction of Zulema to signal that she’s busy. Then, Maca finally reaches the couch where the other woman is sitting, and stops in front of her.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>“Hey,” Zulema replies. She puts the foot that was still resting on her knee back down on the floor and wants to get up, but Macarena motions for her to stay put. She quickly steps over the brunette’s legs, one foot on either side of her, leaving her unable to get up. </p><p>Zulema is just about to ask the blonde what’s going on, but before she can say anything, Maca puts her hands on the other woman’s shoulders and lowers herself down onto her lap. Although Zulema’s hands automatically come up to support the blonde’s waist, the rest of her body freezes. “What the hell are you doing?” she hisses, clearly uncomfortable with this development.</p><p>“I saw you looking just now,” Macarena replies. “I thought I’d give you a private show.” </p><p>Zulema glances around the room and meets a few pairs of curious eyes, mostly men but also some women, that are looking at them. “Very private,” she replies. However, her attention is diverted from the other people in the room when Macarena’s arms slide up to wrap around the back of her neck. Their eyes meet again and the tension between the two of them gets heavier with each second that passes, the promise of what’s to come later tonight turning the both of them on. And the new song that’s playing over the speakers doesn’t help either.</p><p>
  <em> Can you show me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The way that I should move </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Show me what I should do </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To let me feel you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let me control you </em>
</p><p>Zulema doesn't want to let herself go. Not in front of so many people. But this is a task that's gradually becoming more difficult as Macarena starts rolling her hips against hers halfway through the third sentence. The blonde’s arms remain wrapped around the back of Zulema’s neck, holding her close. The brunette has to take a deep breath and this does not go unnoticed by the blonde.</p><p>Macarena watches as Zulema tries to contain herself, obviously trying to hide what this is doing to her. The blonde stares into dark green eyes while she keeps moving her hips, continuing her little show on the rough denim of the other woman’s jeans, and eventually leans in towards the brunette’s ear. </p><p>“Let yourself go for once. Enjoy this.” </p><p>When she pulls back, Zulema’s eyes flicker upwards to meet hers and the blonde is taken aback by the struggle she sees in them. The emotions in the brunette’s eyes go from desire, to some kind of fear, back to desire and then to something that looks like confusion. It’s like a light switch; on, off, on, off again. </p><p>Macarena leans in once more, burying her head in the brunette’s neck while continuing to roll her hips. To anyone else in the club it looks like she’s still putting on a show when in reality, she’s trying to get Zulema to talk to her. </p><p>“Why can’t you let go?” Macarena says, soft enough for only the brunette to hear. She feels the other woman’s hands tighten around her hips as Zulema presses a kiss to the skin of her neck. “I don’t like all these people watching us,” the brunette replies. </p><p>Macarena pulls back again before anyone gets suspicious and rests one hand behind her, on top of Zulema’s knee. Her light green eyes lock with the brunette’s darker one’s. “It’s only for a few minutes. I’m all yours after this.” </p><p>
  <em> Move your body </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tell me what you need most </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Undress you with my eyes </em>
</p><p>Zulema watches as the blonde throws her head back, exposing her slender neck, and thrusts her hips upwards again. She’s still using the hand on Zulema’s knee for balance, and the arm around her neck to prevent herself from falling off the other woman’s lap. </p><p>Zulema finally lets go of Maca’s waist with one hand and reaches out to run it over the skin of her stomach. <em> Fuck. She looks good. </em>The brunette has to work really hard to keep her breathing under control as Macarena slows down and moves her hand from Zulema’s knee behind her back up around her neck, so she’s sitting a few inches away from the other woman’s face with both arms wrapped around her. The song is slowly coming to an end, and Zulema doesn’t miss how the blonde’s eyes drop down to her lips very quickly before she moves off her lap. She meets Zulema’s eyes with a silent request in them.</p><p>
  <em> Take me. </em>
</p><p>The answer is already evident in the brunette’s eyes.</p><p>
  <em> Yes.  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema’s phone rings while they walk down the upstairs hallway to room 105. She pulls it from the back pocket of her jeans and the screen lights up, showing <em> Saray Vargas </em>on the screen. She looks at the blonde, who’s just unlocked the door, and decides to pick up anyway. Maybe something’s wrong. </p><p>
  <em> “Qué te pasa?”  </em>
</p><p><em> “Joder, Zule. </em>What a nice way of saying hello. I can’t just call you because I feel like it?” Saray’s voice sounds through the speakers. </p><p>“Uh,” the brunette replies. “Can you… call me later? I’m kind of, in the middle of something right now.” </p><p>Saray is silent for a few seconds. Then she starts to laugh. “Ah. <em> La rubia</em>?” she asks, just as Zulema follows Macarena into the room and closes the door behind them. “<em>Sí</em>, Saray. Now leave me alone,” the brunette replies. She hears the woman on the other side of the line sigh. “I can’t really leave you to it,” Saray says. “We have a problem.” </p><p>The brunette bites the inside of her cheek, her eyes flashing to the blonde and back to the floor. “Can it wait? Thirty minutes?” </p><p>Saray hesitates, but eventually agrees. “Fine. Thirty. I’ll call you.” </p><p>“<em>Vale,” </em> Zulema replies and hangs up. Macarena looks at her questioningly. “Everything okay?” </p><p>“Just… work,” Zulema says. “Nothing important.” </p><p>“Oh sure, no worries.” Macarena sits down on the bed, watching as Zulema puts her phone on the table next to the door. “What kind of work do you do?” </p><p>The brunette nearly drops her phone at this question. She manages to save it just in time and prevents it from falling onto the table with a loud bang. “Uh-” She definitely wasn’t prepared for a question like this, and she hasn’t thought of a suitable answer to give. “It’s complicated,” Zulema tries. “Not exactly a conversation for now.” </p><p>The blonde doesn’t buy this, but she’s also not in the mood to ask. She motions for the brunette to come over while she remains sitting on the edge of the bed, but the other woman refuses. </p><p>“No,” Zulema shakes her head. “Get up.” </p><p>Macarena looks up, a bit confused at first, but follows the brunette’s instructions and stands back up. She watches as Zulema is the one who sits down on the edge of the bed this time and holds out her hand. </p><p>“<em>Qué?”  </em>Maca questions. She takes the outstretched hand without hesitation, though, and feels herself being pulled back onto the brunette’s lap. “Oh.” </p><p>It almost feels natural. Zulema’s arms wrap around her waist and Maca’s arms curl themselves around the brunette’s neck again. The older woman immediately leans in and starts sucking on Macarena’s neck, almost leaving a mark, but the blonde pulls back just in time.</p><p>“You can’t do that.”</p><p>It’s meant to be serious, but the warning leaves Maca’s lips sounding more like a breathy moan than an actual warning. Zulema doesn’t apologize, and leans in to softly kiss her neck instead. The blonde sighs and closes her eyes. </p><p>“I don’t like it when you’re out there,” Zulema starts, but breaks her sentence to trail her tongue up to the blonde’s ear, “dancing for everyone to see.” She reaches Maca’s ear and bites down on her ear lobe, drawing a moan from the blonde. </p><p>“It’s my job,” Macarena counters. She tilts her head to the side to allow the other woman more space. “I know,” Zulema mumbles.</p><p>They don’t talk about it after that. They know they’re not supposed to. </p><p>Macarena makes eye contact with the brunette and slowly rolls her hips again, repeating the same motion from her dance downstairs. She doesn’t miss how the brunette wets her lips and bites down on the bottom one with her teeth. Macarena does it again and this time the other woman lets out a soft gasp. This is a clear indication that Zulema feels definitely more relaxed than a few minutes ago, when they were still downstairs and surrounded by people. Macarena knows that she can’t let this opportunity pass by and decides to go a little further. </p><p>“Take off your jeans.” </p><p>Zulema tenses up immediately, her eyes flickering from Macarena’s light green ones down to the place where the blonde’s panties rub over the fabric of her jeans. <em> Fuck</em>. Deep down, she wants this, but she never came here with the intention of taking her own clothes off. Her shirt is fine, but her jeans are definitely something else. Yet there’s nothing she wants more right now than to feel the blonde’s skin on hers. But maybe she shouldn’t- <em> Oh, whatever. </em></p><p>In one smooth motion, she stands up, holding Macarena close to her by keeping an arm wrapped around her waist.</p><p>“Do it for me.”  </p><p>The blonde is slightly taken aback at this. She hadn’t expected the brunette to agree, let alone ask her to do it. But she shivers at the obvious desire in the older woman’s eyes and feels her hands automatically reach out for the button.</p><p>Zulema keeps holding her gaze and challenges Maca to look away, to break the obvious connection between the two of them. The blonde doesn’t, and manages to undo the button and slide the zipper down without so much as looking at it. She slides the jeans over Zulema’s hips, and finally breaks eye contact when she drops to the floor to pull them off, along with her boots. She watches as the brunette’s eyes get darker at the sight of her on her knees, and now she knows why Zulema asked her to do this. </p><p>It turns her on.</p><p>The brunette tenses as she feels the other woman’s hands on her bare legs, slowly running them upwards. She wants to stop this, but the light green eyes staring up at her with a soft look in them makes her reconsider. Just for a few seconds. Until the blonde’s hands reach her thighs and Zulema has to shake herself out of whatever trance she’s in.</p><p>
  <em> What the fuck is happening?  </em>
</p><p>“No,” she interrupts Macarena and takes a step back, “I touch you, <em> rubia. </em> Not the other way around.<em>” </em>She sits back down on the bed and motions towards Maca’s outfit. “Take that off. All of it.” The blonde obeys immediately, slipping out of her thin white top and matching underwear and stockings, leaving them on the floor. They’ll wrinkle, she thinks. But who cares. </p><p>She steps forward, one leg on either side of the brunette’s, and lowers herself onto Zulema’s lap once more. Bare legs finally come into contact with each other, and a shiver runs through both women’s bodies at the feeling. Their eyes meet each other at the same time. </p><p>
  <em> Do you feel that too?  </em>
</p><p>Macarena watches as the other woman’s eyes drop down to the place where their legs meet. She feels how Zulema shifts slightly and eventually reaches out to place her hands on Maca’s bare thighs. The blonde takes a shaky breath as she feels those hands slide upwards over her naked body. She takes this opportunity to roll her hips again, skin on skin this time, and doesn’t miss the sigh that escapes Zulema’s lips at the movement. The brunette’s eyes flicker up again and meet hers. They’re filled with desire.</p><p>Zulema slides one hand up Macarena’s back and pulls her closer against her, while the other makes its way down until it reaches her center. She’s already soaked. </p><p>“Are you this wet all the time?” Zulema chuckles. Maca lets out a gasp when the hand between her legs starts moving. “No,” is her breathy reply, “this is just what you do to me.”</p><p>Zulema’s hand stops moving for a second. Those words have some kind of effect on her, although she can’t quite put her finger on what it is. She shrugs it off, once again reminding herself that she can’t get attached, and continues moving her hand. A soft moan from Maca reaches her ears. It’s not enough.  </p><p>“Be loud,” Zulema says. “I want everyone to hear what I’m doing to you.” </p><p>Macarena smiles. “The rooms are soundproof.” It’s the truth, the rooms are soundproof, but only to a certain level. And the blonde is pretty sure this woman in front of her can make her scream if she wants to. </p><p>“Let’s try and find out.” Zulema tells her with a playful smile on her lips. Not even a second later, she enters the blonde with two fingers, and Maca lets out a louder moan. </p><p>“That’s it,” Zulema encourages her. “Roll your hips again, <em> rubia.</em>” Her free hand pulls on the skin of Macarena’s hip and the blonde understands immediately what she wants. She obeys and starts moving her hips once more, letting out a moan when she feels Zulema’s fingers inside of her this time. The sensation is so overwhelming that she stops to take a deep breath, but Zulema won't have it. Her nails dig into the skin of Maca's hip, urging her to continue. </p><p>"You were doing so well earlier. Don't lose your rhythm now." </p><p>“Fuck,” Macarena breathes. Both her arms are wrapped around the brunette’s neck and Zulema still has one hand wrapped around her waist for support. Zulema curls her fingers from time to time, drawing an even louder moan from the blonde, but not enough to actually make her come. She’s enjoying this too much for it to be over already. </p><p>“Feels good?” the brunette asks. She is rewarded with another moan before the breathy answer follows. “Yes. Please. Don’t stop.” Macarena lets her head drop onto the brunette’s shoulder. It gives Zulema perfect access to the side of her neck and she immediately takes advantage of this by nibbling on the skin. She waits a few seconds before biting down again, careful not to leave a mark, and feels Maca’s arms tighten around her neck.</p><p>
  <em> Good. </em>
</p><p>The blonde is dripping down her fingers while Zulema continues biting her neck and shoulders, continuing to listen to the younger woman’s moans. “Alright,” she whispers, pulling Macarena closer against her while the blonde continues rolling her hips. “I want you to come for me.”</p><p>Maca lets out a desperate moan, until she lifts her head back up from the other woman’s shoulder and lets it fall against Zulema’s forehead this time. Closer together. </p><p>Zulema can now feel each breath and gasp of the other woman on her lips and it takes everything in her to not press them together. But she can’t. It’s Macarena’s rule, and it’s her own rule now too. It would make things too complicated. This is just fucking after all. But the blonde leans in a little further, so close their lips are almost touching.</p><p>Almost. </p><p>Until Zulema curls her fingers again and Macarena falls over the edge. </p><p>She throws her head back in pleasure, her hands clutching the brunette’s back as she lets out a loud moan. Probably loud enough to let the people in the room next to them know they’re having a good time. </p><p>Zulema watches as the blonde lets herself go completely, desperately rolling her hips to draw out her orgasm, and she can’t help but wonder if this is what Maca does with other people too. Or maybe, just maybe, if it’s only with her. </p><p>But before she can give much attention to the thought, Zulema feels that the blonde has started to calm down. Her movements have slowed and her moans have quieted down to slower breaths. She looks up and expects to meet light green eyes, but finds that those eyes are very much focused on something else.</p><p>Her lips. </p><p>“Are you gonna break your own rule, <em> rubia?”  </em></p><p>The blonde’s eyes immediately flash back upwards. She looks a little guilty.</p><p><em> Caught you, </em>Zulema thinks. </p><p>But the blonde doesn’t exactly give up. One of her hands comes from behind the brunette’s neck and she runs a finger down her cheek, stopping a few centimeters away from her lips. “Don’t you want to?” Her finger continues moving and slowly traces the brunette’s lips. Zulema feels them part on their own accord. It almost feels natural. “Don’t you feel … something?” </p><p>Zulema decides to tease her a bit. “Something like <em> what?" </em>At this last word, she curls the fingers that are still inside of the blonde, whose eyes immediately fall closed at the sensation. When Maca realizes the movement was just once, she takes a shaky breath to compose herself and opens her eyes again. </p><p>“<em>Algo … más? </em>Because every time our skin touches, it feels different. This is not how I feel with my other clients. Not even with my boyfriend.” The end of Maca’s sentence is almost a whisper, but their faces are still close enough for Zulema to hear it. </p><p>The brunette’s heart starts to race at the other woman’s words. Because no, this is not how it’s supposed to feel. She knows that. And as long as Macarena would stick to the rules, Zulema would too. Only now the blonde’s façade is crumbling and Zulema has no idea what to do.</p><p>So she runs. </p><p>“No, I don’t,” she lies. At the same time, she pulls her fingers from inside the blonde. “This is just fucking. My way of dealing with stress. Nothing else.”</p><p>Macarena’s eyes meet hers again and at the same time, she removes one of her arms from around Zulema’s neck and uses her hand to cup the brunette’s cheek. Zulema now has no other choice but to look at her, and catches herself looking at Maca’s lips from time to time. </p><p>“<em>Qué? </em>” she asks. </p><p>Macarena swallows. “<em>Nada,” </em> she whispers back. Her eyes tell a different story. </p><p>“<em>Claro,” </em>Zulema scoffs. </p><p>They share a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence. Maca’s hand still on Zulema’s cheek, Zulema’s arms around her waist. Their faces too close together to not think about the <em> what if.  </em></p><p>Then, a phone rings. </p><p>The brunette needs a few seconds to realize that it’s her phone, but Maca is already up on her feet, giving her the space to get to whoever’s calling her. <em> Joder</em>, Zulema realizes. “Saray?” she picks up. </p><p>“<em>S</em><em>i,” </em>the woman on the other side of the line responds. “You’re available now?” </p><p>Zulema looks at the blonde, silently asking if it’s okay that she finishes this call here. </p><p>“Sure, take your time. I have to get dressed and redo my hair anyways,” Macarena replies. She grabs her outfit - or whatever you call the piece of clothing that barely covers anything - and walks over to the small mirror that’s hanging on the wall near the door. </p><p>“Yeah,” Zulema replies to her best friend. “What’s the problem?” </p><p>Saray sighs, as if she’s preparing herself for what’s about to go down. </p><p>“One of our men was apparently selling in the wrong district.” </p><p>Zulema closes her eyes. “And?”</p><p>“They made him tell who his supplier was.”</p><p>Silence. Zulema runs a hand through her hair. Her eyes flash towards Maca, who pulls a hair tie from her wrist and looks in the mirror at her own appearance. “So I assume he ratted us out then?” she says. “Otherwise you wouldn’t call me to say we have a problem.” </p><p>“Well…,” Saray replies. “Yeah. They know we’re their bosses. <em> Estamos jodidas, Zule."</em></p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*trigger warning*: verbal abuse</p><p>first chapter without nsfw stuff. well- almost. you'll see. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>“One of our men was apparently selling in the wrong district.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema closes her eyes. “And?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They made him tell who his supplier was.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Zulema leans against the wall next to the door while she listens to Saray. Her eyes remain focused on Macarena, who’s doing her hair in front of the tiny mirror. This really could become a problem. There’s a mutual agreement between those selling drugs in the city that each one has their own district, and breaking those rules means trouble. </p><p>“We’ll think of something,” Zulema replies when Saray finishes. “This has never happened before, it’s just a mistake. They probably feel threatened because they see us as competition. Which is true,” she chuckles. “We’re damn good competition.”</p><p>Saray doesn’t laugh. “I’m not kidding,” she says. “I have a girlfriend, Zulema. I can’t get into trouble like this. I don’t want to end up dead in an alley somewhere.”</p><p>Zulema bites her lip. “You know I won’t let that happen<em>. </em> I’ll meet you at your place in twenty, alright? <em> Vamos a arreglar esto.</em>”</p><p>The woman on the other side of the line sighs. “<em>Vale. </em>See you soon.” </p><p>Zulema ends the call and puts her phone back on the table. She only realizes she’s still in her underwear when she sees the blonde pick up her black jeans from the floor. </p><p>“Here,” Macarena hands them to her, her hair pulled back into a nice bun on the top of her head. “What was that about?”</p><p> The brunette slides her right foot into the jeans and pulls them up to her knee before doing the same thing with her left. “Nothing important.”</p><p>“It sounded important,” the blonde counters. “Work again?” </p><p>Zulema pulls the jeans up to her waist and lifts up her shirt to be able to button them. “I told you that’s not a conversation for now.” Her shirt falls back over her hips. “I gotta go.”</p><p>“Wait,” Macarena’s hand automatically reaches out for the other woman’s wrist. “Are you in trouble?”</p><p>Zulema rolls her eyes. “You don’t stop, do you?” She pulls her wrist back from the blonde’s grip, but doesn’t step away. </p><p>Macarena slightly tilts her head. “Come on. You know what I do, I think it’s only fair if you share your story.”</p><p>The brunette takes a step closer. When she sees the blonde’s eyes fall onto her lips again, she leans in. Very slowly.</p><p>Maca’s heart starts to race - is Zulema going to kiss her? - and she freezes on the spot. That is, until the brunette avoids her lips at the very last second and moves towards her ear. “I don’t play fair,” she whispers. “You should know that by now.”</p><p>She pulls back and can’t suppress a laugh when she sees that Macarena has her eyes closed. <em> It’s so easy with her. </em>When Maca hears the laugh, she opens her eyes again and glares at Zulema. “Don’t be like that,” she says, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re so secretive. It makes me curious.”</p><p>Zulema doesn’t respond and reaches for the door handle instead. “How are things with the boyfriend?” She easily changes the subject with that question, while she holds the door open for the younger woman.  </p><p>“Good. Nothing special,” Maca replies immediately, but the look in her eyes changes slightly. Only for a few seconds, but enough for the brunette to notice.</p><p>“Don’t be like that,” Zulema echoes, following Macarena out the room into the hallway. “You’re lying. It makes me curious.” </p><p>Macarena shoots a deadly look over her shoulder before she turns back and descends the stairs. Not saying another word about her boyfriend. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Saray is already waiting for her at the door when Zulema arrives at the apartment. She lets the brunette in without a single word, and the older woman follows her into the kitchen where they sit down at the dinner table.</p><p>“Alright,” Zulema starts. “Tell me again. What happened?” </p><p>Saray takes a deep breath and presses her hands together, a clear sign that she’s nervous. “I got a phone call from an unknown number saying that we were selling in someone else’s territory. I didn’t know who it was, he didn’t say his name. But he told me that one of our men was selling in Huertas. Not our district, as you know.”</p><p>“<em>Joder,</em>” Zulema curses. “Huertas? Really? That’s Ramirez's territory.” </p><p>Saray remains quiet, unsure what to say. Until Zulema breaks the silence. </p><p>“I’m gonna have to meet up with him.”</p><p>“<em>Has perdido la cabeza?</em>” Saray looks at her best friend with wide eyes. “Those guys are dangerous!” </p><p>“I know who Ramirez is,” Zulema replies. ”I’ll be fine.” </p><p>Saray shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” The older woman meets her eyes and leans forward over the table, untangling Saray’s hands and taking them in her own. “Yes, he’s dangerous. But this is the first and only time we’ve sold in his district, and it was by accident. I’m going to tell him just that.” </p><p>Saray doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t pull her hands away either. She keeps her eyes focused on the older woman’s face. Zulema is staring into the distance, her eyes all cloudy as if she’s far away with her mind. This is her thinking face, Saray knows, and she also knows better than to interrupt. Which seems to be the right decision, because Zulema remains very quiet for a few more minutes until she finally lifts her eyes. </p><p>“What if he did it on purpose?”</p><p>Saray frowns, not following. “<em>Qué dices?”  </em></p><p>“What if our guy sold those drugs there on purpose?” Zulema repeats. It’s clear for her now, because she’s been thinking about this for the past five minutes. But she realizes it’s obviously not clear for Saray.  “I think he’s trying to harm our business on purpose. Maybe he secretly works for Ramirez. Maybe he <em> wants </em>me to get in trouble with him.”</p><p>Realization dawns on Saray. </p><p>“So Ramirez can eliminate you, and take over our district,” she fills in.</p><p>Zulema pushes her chair backwards. It makes a loud noise when it scrapes over the wooden floor. “Well fuck.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and searches for a number.</p><p>“Who are you calling?” Saray asks.</p><p>Zulema holds the phone to her ear and listens to the steady <em> beep </em> while she looks at her best friend. “A contact. He knows Ramirez.” </p><p>The person on the other side of the line picks up. </p><p>“<em>Hola?” </em></p><p>“Pablo,” Zulema replies. She doesn’t have time for greetings and small talk. “<em>Escúchame. </em>I have a problem, and I need to discuss it with Ramirez. Do you know where I can find him?” </p><p>“I’ve heard he’s not in the city,” Pablo replies. “But he should be back next week.”</p><p>“<em>Y dónde está?” </em> Zulema asks. </p><p>“That wasn’t your question, was it?” he says. “All I know is that he’s not here now, and he’ll be back next week. Why, are you in trouble?”</p><p>Zulema sighs. “A little.” </p><p>“I’ve heard something like that,” Pablo replies. He's quiet for a few seconds, until he continues. “Are you trying to take over his district?”</p><p>“What the hell are you saying?” Zulema raises her voice, earning a curious look from Saray. “One of our boys made a <em> mistake, </em>Pablo. I just want to talk to Ramirez to let him know, so we can go back to normal.” </p><p>“Alright, alright,” his voice sounds through the speakers. “If you say so. Call me next week and I’ll let you know where he is.”</p><p><em> “Vale," </em>the brunette replies, a little annoyed. <em> “Adios.” </em>She disconnects and her phone disappears into her pocket again. Looking at her best friend, who still appears very worried, she sighs out loud. “I can’t talk to him right now. We just have to lay low for the next week and not sell anything. Let everyone know, will you?” </p><p>Saray nods. “Okay.” </p><p>The older woman has already made her way towards the front door when her best friend calls out. “Zule!” </p><p>She turns back around and sees Saray standing in the door opening to the kitchen, pointing a finger at her. “<em>Tú.</em>” </p><p>The brunette can’t help but smile at the movement. She mirrors her best friend and points a finger back at her. </p><p>“<em>Túuu.”</em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That same night, Zulema meets the blonde in her dreams.</p><p>
  <em> They’re in a park. The sun is bright, but not too warm, and they’re simply walking until Macarena points towards a bench on their left. “Let’s go there.” Zulema follows, and it’s only when she lowers herself on the wooden surface next to Macarena that she finds this bench is quite private, hidden from most of their surroundings by trees and grown bushes. The blonde turns her head to look at the older woman, her light green eyes shining in the sun. Zulema feels her breath catch in her throat at the sight, and her eyes unconsciously fall down to Macarena’s lips. The blonde smiles and laces their hands together, causing a warm fuzzy feeling to run through the older woman’s body. She squeezes the hand in hers and watches as Macarena leans in until their faces are as close as they were today in real life. Zulema closes her eyes.  </em>
</p><p>Right before their lips meet, Zulema bolts awake, immediately sitting upright in her bed. Her heart is racing - although it’s not the uncomfortable kind, but more of the nervous kind - and she takes a second to calm down before she rests her head back on the pillow, pulling the covers back over her body.</p><p>She turns onto her side, facing the alarm clock on her nightstand.</p><p>3:37 AM.</p><p>Zulema closes her eyes and tries to fall back asleep immediately, but the image of Macarena looking at her and then leaning in for a kiss immediately finds its way back into her head.</p><p><em> For fuck’s sake. </em> She opens her eyes and rolls onto her back again, staring at the ceiling.</p><p>
  <em> If she’s already in my dreams now, she’ll probably never leave my mind again.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Macarena doesn’t dream. Not because she really doesn’t, but because she doesn’t get the chance to sleep. Miguel was drunk tonight, and she found herself hiding in the bathroom when he started yelling at her. His voice still resonates through her head.</p><p>
  <em> You’re a fucking whore. You spend all day out there fucking other people, but when I touch you, you suddenly don’t want it? </em>
</p><p>He held onto her wrist - there’s a bruise now - and she managed to pull herself loose just in time, right before his arm could wrap itself around her and pull her in. Luckily, their bathroom door has a lock, and Macarena felt safe enough to lower herself onto the floor and wait until he was done banging on the door and yelling at her.</p><p>It’s been quiet for about half an hour now, so she wraps her hand around their sink and pulls her stiff body up from the cold tiles. She rests her hand on the door knob and slowly turns it until it unlocks, trying to make as little noise as possible. Their bathroom is located in the hallway, so at least she doesn’t find herself in the bedroom immediately. Once she closes the door behind her, Macarena waits a few seconds to listen if she hears anything, but it seems Miguel is fast asleep in their bedroom.</p><p>She opts for the couch, because she doesn’t want to wake up next to him. Her phone on the table shows the time when she picks it up.</p><p>3:40 AM.</p><p><em> Well. At least I can get a few hours of sleep now. </em>She finds a thin blanket and makes sure it covers her body when she lies down on the couch, setting an alarm for the next morning. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The next day, Zulema finds herself back in her car, on her way to <em>Libertad. </em>She barely got any sleep after waking up from her dream - this whole drug thing is stressing her out - and she’s just tense. That, along with a thousand more excuses that she’s making up for herself. Just so she doesn’t have to admit that she <em> wants </em>to see Macarena again.</p><p>She makes her way through the familiar hallway and into the club, where the music isn’t as loud as it usually is. Maybe because it’s only six thirty in the evening, and most people aren’t in for a party yet. </p><p>Zulema scans the room, but she doesn’t see Macarena anywhere. She decides to sit down on one of the red velvet sofas and wait for the blonde. But after ten minutes - patience is not her strong suit - she gets up again and makes her way towards the exit. Maybe the blonde isn’t even here and all her waiting is pointless. She opens the first door that leads into the small hallway and closes it behind her, drowning out the sound of the music.</p><p>She’s only halfway through when a very familiar moan comes from a room somewhere to her left. “Ah- Yes!” </p><p>The sound of it makes her stop dead in her tracks.</p><p>Macarena. There’s no doubt about it.</p><p>After three times with the blonde, she’d recognize those high-pitched moans everywhere. As she stands there, they get more frequent and louder, and Zulema feels her entire body tense at the thought of someone else fucking Macarena like this. She listens for three more, agonizingly long seconds, before she turns away and walks back into the club, slamming the door behind her. Fuck this. </p><p>Katia is standing behind the bar and sees the brunette coming, acknowledging her with a nod of her head. She turns away to help a customer, but makes sure that Zulema’s bottle of tequila is within the brunette’s reach. Zulema’s first shot is already done when Katia leans over the counter to talk to her.</p><p>“Hey there. Where’s Maca?” </p><p>The answer is immediate. “Fucking someone else.” </p><p>Katia doesn’t miss how the brunette’s eyes flash when she says this. The blonde looks at her apologetically, raising the bottle of tequila.</p><p>“Another one?” Zulema nods and Katia fills her glass in silence. She steals another glance at the brunette and realizes it’s probably better to leave her alone, so she does. Zulema doesn’t even notice. She’s staring into the distance; the music playing through the speakers don’t reach her ears, and she doesn’t hear the people in the room sing along when they realize which song it is. All she can think about is Macarena and the person she’s with - whether is a man or a woman - being together in that room, when it should be her. It really should be her.</p><p>Zulema downs the shot of tequila with a grimace on her face. The taste of pure alcohol is something she’ll never get used to.</p><p><em>It doesn’t make sense to feel like this, </em>Zulema thinks to herself.<em> It’s Macarena’s job, for fuck’s sake.</em> <em>I can’t expect her to only do this with me. </em></p><p>She turns back towards the bar and sets her glass down, before burying her head in her hands. She came here to relax, not to overthink. And the sound of Macarena enjoying herself with someone else makes her blood boil. She closes her eyes.</p><p>
  <em> Why do I get so possessive over someone who isn’t even mine? </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter will be the resolvement of the … tension ... zulema feels right now. that’s all i’m saying.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. breaking the rules</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zulema stays where she is, on her bar stool with her bottle of tequila. Katia checks up on her from time to time while the brunette waits for Macarena to come back. The only positive thing is that the wait won’t take more than twenty minutes, since Maca is allowed to stay with a client for thirty minutes and Zulema has already been waiting for ten. Best case scenario, the blonde will be here in- </p><p>“Katia, can you get me some water?” </p><p>The familiar voice makes Zulema turn around, and there she is. Macarena. Her eyes are still focused on the blonde behind the bar, who affirmatively responds to her question. </p><p>Zulema obviously can’t keep quiet.</p><p>“It sounded like you were having fun, <em> rubia.” </em> </p><p>Macarena freezes, her eyes going wide, and she turns towards the brunette.  </p><p>“Zulema.”</p><p>Surprised. Maybe a little terrified at the intense look on the scorpion’s face. This is what Zulema deciphers from the tone of Maca’s voice. The blonde accepts the glass of water from Katia before she gives her full attention to Zulema and moves towards her, stepping into her personal space. “I assume you … heard me, then?” Macarena says, her eyes dropping to Zulema’s lips and back up again. “We never use those rooms downstairs, but everything else was full.” </p><p>The brunette does nothing more than glare at her. She takes in the blonde’s appearance - just a simple black top with a pair of shorts - and realizes once again that Macarena is really fucking gorgeous. This makes her hate the person who just fucked her even more. </p><p>Zulema jumps off her bar stool and makes eye contact with Katia, who is already glancing at her screen. “Your room is free now,” she mentions. The brunette nods in response. “I’ll pay later.”</p><p>Katia chuckles knowingly and motions with her hand for them to go. </p><p>Zulema grabs Maca’s wrist and finds her eyes. “Come with me.” The blonde shivers at the other woman’s expression and sets the still full glass of water back down on the counter. The moment she lets go of it, the brunette is already pulling her towards the hallway. </p><p>They walk up the stairs in silence, although the tension between them is almost unbearable. Macarena feels the other woman’s eyes on her back as she opens the door of room 105 and barely manages to suppress a cry when Zulema pushes her inside, slamming the door shut behind them with a loud bang. </p><p>The force with which Zulema has pushed her inside almost causes Macarena to fall over, and she stumbles into the room. Once she’s regained her balance, she immediately turns around to face the other woman with a slightly annoyed expression on her face. Who does Zulema think she is?</p><p>“What are you-”</p><p>The brunette quickly advances on her and grabs her by her throat. “<em>Cállate.” </em>Macarena’s eyes get wide, but it’s not from pleasure. She vividly remembers an evening a few days ago, where Miguel had her pushed against the kitchen counter with his hand around her neck. He was mad at her. Again. She doesn’t even remember why. Her eyes refocus on the face in front of her, and the feeling of uneasiness disappears a little. </p><p>This is Zulema. Not Miguel. </p><p>She’s safe. </p><p>The brunette notices how Maca has gone quiet and remains very still, although she doesn’t remove her hand from around the other woman’s throat. Their eyes meet and they exchange words without saying them out loud. <em> Is this okay?  </em></p><p>Zulema eventually lets go of her, but not before roughly pushing the blonde down on the bed. The second Macarena’s back hits the sheets, the brunette is all over her, pulling on her top and shorts at the same time. “Off.” Just one word, but enough to make the blonde shiver. She sits up and pulls her top over her head in one smooth motion, while Zulema is already pulling the shorts off her legs. The brunette climbs on top of her and grabs both of her wrists, pushing them up above her head and holding them there. </p><p>This is against Macarena’s rules. “You- You can’t restrain me,” she breathes, but the way those words leave her mouth let Zulema know that she doesn’t really mean this. Nevertheless, the older woman stops everything for a second and looks into the blonde’s eyes, ignoring the adrenaline and overwhelming jealousy still running through her veins. </p><p>“Do you want me to let you go?” Zulema asks. Nothing more, nothing less. Straight to the point. Because if this is really not what Macarena wants, then she’ll let go. But she already knows the answer before the younger woman opens her mouth. </p><p>“No.” </p><p>The brunette’s lips curl up into a knowing smile. </p><p>“That’s what I thought.” </p><p>Zulema pushes both of Macarena’s wrists together and wraps one strong hand around them to hold them down, while her other hand runs down Maca’s body. Her nails leave long red lines in their wake, and the blonde shivers at the mixture of pleasure and pain. The brunette’s fingers disappear into the younger woman’s panties and they immediately start rubbing circles, unable to wait any longer. She feels Macarena’s body twitch underneath her, trying to get away from the pleasure because it’s already too much for her to handle. Usually, she can have multiple clients right after each other, but with Zulema it’s just <em> different. </em>The brunette has been quick to pick up on everything she loves, and just as quick to abandon everything she hates. Which leads to the brunette always touching her the right way. </p><p>“I can’t, Zulema.” Macarena pushes against the older woman’s grip on her wrists, trying to get out of it. “Please. It’s too much.” </p><p>“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to fuck that man,” Zulema growls. It’s just a guess, she doesn’t know if Macarena was meeting up with a man. But it seems to be right since the other woman doesn’t correct her. </p><p>“It’s my job,” the blonde protests, “And I didn’t know you were coming.” </p><p>The brunette’s fingers slide down and inside of Macarena immediately. </p><p>“Then deal with it.” </p><p>Macarena lets out a moan while her body continues to writhe on the bed, everything still too much. Her eyes flutter shut as Zulema adds a finger and curls them up, towards her front wall, because she’s just <em> that good. </em></p><p>“Zulema,” the blonde tries once more, trying to get the brunette to calm down. But it’s a lost case, really. </p><p>“No.” </p><p>Macarena whimpers. “Please.” Not sure if she’s asking for the other woman to stop or to keep going. Zulema leans over her, the movement putting even more pressure on her restrained wrists, and bites down on the skin just below the blonde’s ear. </p><p>“Was he good, <em> rubia</em>?” she whispers. “Tell me.” </p><p>Macarena tilts her head, giving the brunette more access to her neck. “No,” she replies breathily. It’s not convincing.</p><p>“I don’t believe you.” Zulema bites down on her earlobe, drawing another moan from the younger woman. “It sounded like he was good.” </p><p>Maca’s breath hitches when the brunette pushes even deeper and kisses a trail down her neck towards her collarbone. “No one- <em> oh,</em>” she stops in the middle of her sentence, distracted by teeth biting down on the skin of her shoulder, before she tries again. “No one is as good as you.” </p><p>
  <em> That’s better. </em>
</p><p>Zulema smiles and slows down a little after this confession. She doesn’t know why, but she definitely needed that bit of reassurance. Macarena notices the change in movements and manages to open her eyes again, expecting to meet dark green ones. </p><p>Except they’re not looking at her. They’re looking at her lips. </p><p>Maca closely watches Zulema’s face as she runs her tongue over them, and her teeth eventually sink into her bottom lip. It catches the brunette’s attention and her eyes immediately flicker back up to meet Maca’s. </p><p><em> Caught you, </em>the blonde thinks, not knowing that these exact words were running through Zulema’s mind the last time they met. Except now it’s not Macarena who wants to kiss the other woman. It’s Zulema who wants to kiss her.</p><p>The desire between them goes both ways, although the older woman has never shown it as much as she has now. The movement of her fingers has slowed down to an almost full stop, and her eyes don’t seem able to leave Macarena’s face. </p><p>“Do it,” the blonde whispers. “Kiss me.”</p><p>Hearing the words out loud does something to Zulema. The blonde can see the change happening in her expression, and feel it in the movement of her fingers which resume their rougher pace from before. But she doesn’t lean in to kiss her, although Maca knows how badly she wants to. She just witnessed it.  </p><p>Macarena’s eyes fall closed again when the brunette’s fingers curl up. “<em>Joder</em>,” she complains, annoyed that she can’t handle the things Zulema is doing to her. She wants to continue looking at her, but the sensation is so overwhelming that she can’t keep her eyes open anymore. She pushes against the older woman’s grip on her wrists. Fuck<em>, </em>how badly she wants to use her hands to wrap them around her shoulders and pull her down to finally be able to press their lips together. </p><p>“Zulema,” she tries again. “Please.”</p><p>The brunette shivers at the desperation in Maca’s voice. But she shakes her head. No, she can’t get herself into this. This is just fucking, no feelings. Although it’s really hard to ignore the desire settling in the pit of her stomach and the affection that’s been forming between them since the day they first met. And it’s even harder to ignore the fact that she’s never gotten this comfortable around someone in such a short amount of time. It scares her. So she runs, like she always does. </p><p>“No,” Zulema replies. And to prevent another question from Macarena, she continues the movement of her fingers, because she knows that the blonde is close. And it won’t take much more to make her come. “I want you to come for me. Be loud.” </p><p>Macarena arches up into the brunette’s touch when she curls her fingers again. She’s so close - the buildup to this moment has been long enough - and there’s nothing she wants more than to wrap her arms around the woman above her. But she can’t, because Zulema is still tightly holding onto her wrists with her free hand.</p><p>“Ah!” A small cry leaves the blonde’s lips when Zulema sets a furious pace all of a sudden. Half jealousy, half emotions. “I’m- I’m close,” she manages.</p><p>The brunette smiles. </p><p>“Good girl.”</p><p>Macarena feels a shiver run down her spine at the choice of words. She really doesn’t want to admit that it turns her on. But then again- why not? Opening her eyes once more to look at the woman above her, she sees that Zulema is already looking at her with a knowing smile on her face. And the expression on the brunette’s face is enough to bring her right to the edge. The dangerous look in her eyes has softened completely, and Zulema is now staring at her with a look of affection and admiration. </p><p>The blonde’s eyes flutter shut again, and she lets herself go. Loudly. All she can do is writhe on the bed and roll her hips to the movement of Zulema’s fingers as she rides out the best fucking orgasm of today. Of this week, even. </p><p>The brunette slows down and eventually pulls out when she feels that the other woman is starting to calm down. She watches as Macarena tries to control her breathing and eventually opens her eyes, looking up at her.</p><p>“What was that about?” Maca manages, still trying to recover. She pushes against Zulema’s hold, but the brunette isn’t about to let go just yet. She likes having full control over a situation like this. </p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>The blonde shivers when a late aftershock runs through her body. “Jealous?” </p><p>Zulema’s grip tightens around her wrists. Macarena considers that a yes. “I can’t help it that I’m one of the most requested women around here,” she counters, her confidence fed by the rush of adrenaline from her orgasm. “Too bad you haven’t let me touch you so I can prove it.” </p><p>Zulema’s eyes flicker up to meet hers. She runs the hand that’s not holding onto Maca’s wrists up the blonde’s body, over her stomach, breasts and neck, until she cups her cheek. </p><p>“You’re awfully confident for someone in your position.” </p><p>Macarena bites her lip at the brunette’s answer, and slightly pushes against the tight grip on her wrists. “I just want to make you feel good.” </p><p>Zulema doesn’t answer. But she doesn’t let go either.</p><p>“Will you do something for me?” Macarena asks. </p><p>The older woman stills the stroking movement of her fingers on Maca’s cheek. “Depends. I’ll have to let you go first.” She grins, trying to play it cool. But deep down she knows that she’d do anything Macarena asks. </p><p>“Will you take off your clothes?”</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>“Why?” Zulema’s brow furrows. “There's no use now. And we only have like, five minutes left.” </p><p>It’s a bullshit excuse and they both know it. They got right down to business, so they should have at least fifteen minutes left. And Macarena’s next words only add fuel to the fire. </p><p>“Because I want to feel your skin on mine.” </p><p>Zulema bites her lip. This is starting to get really dangerous. </p><p>Feelings weren’t part of the deal and both women are aware of this. But they’re also aware of the look in the other’s eyes, although Zulema is better at hiding it than Macarena. </p><p>The blonde knows she has to try a little harder to push the brunette over the edge, so she wriggles one hand free - luckily, Zulema’s grip loosened when Macarena asked her question - and wraps it around the back of the other woman’s neck to pull her closer. Their bodies almost become one; chests pressed together, lips dangerously close, one of Zulema’s legs in between the blonde’s and the other one resting on the outside of her hip. </p><p>“Please.” </p><p>It’s enough.</p><p>Zulema lets go of Macarena’s other wrist and pushes herself back up again, away from that dangerous closeness. She crosses her arms in front of her stomach and grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. But her jeans - skinny and tight, a lot different from the loose ones she usually wears - can’t be taken off like this, so she has to get up from the bed anyways. Macarena’s eyes follow her as she undresses. And now, it’s just the both of them in their underwear. </p><p>The brunette is just about to question what the hell she’s actually doing, why she’s <em> listening </em>to the blonde, but Maca holds her hand out and motions for her to come back. And she listens. Again. </p><p>Zulema climbs back on the bed and leans over Macarena once more, putting her weight on her left arm while her right hand slides over the skin of the younger woman’s stomach and hips. Just wanting to feel her. </p><p>“Zulema,” Macarena whispers. Their bodies flush together, skin on skin. She gets a little lightheaded from the feeling. Her hands, now both finally free, come up to cup the brunette’s face. “I … <em>really</em> want to kiss you.”</p><p>The brunette’s hand stops tracing circles on Maca’s hips and her eyes find light green ones. </p><p>“Maca …” It’s nothing more than a whisper. “You have a boyfriend. And I- I just can’t.” </p><p>The blonde’s finger traces down over her cheek until it reaches the older woman’s lips. “I want to break up with him,” she replies. “I lied. He still hurts me.” </p><p>Anger crosses the brunette’s features for a split second. Then her face goes back to whatever kind of suppressed emotion it was. </p><p>“I’ve seen you looking,” Macarena breathes. Her eyes fall back onto the brunette’s lips again. “You want this too.” </p><p>Zulema doesn’t deny it. She can’t. </p><p>Her eyes drop to Macarena’s lips and back up to her eyes. “You had a rule. Do you really want me to break it?” she asks. This makes the blonde smile. </p><p>“I’ve never thought of you as someone who sticks to the rules anyway.”</p><p>One, two, three more seconds of silence. </p><p>Neither one of them knows who leans in first. Macarena’s arms wrap themselves around the back of Zulema’s neck to pull her closer, but it could be that the brunette was already leaning in. They meet each other in the middle, lips finally pressing against each other. </p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema feels a shiver run down her spine when the blonde lets out a satisfied sigh against her lips. It’s slow and tentative at first, a kind of <em> oh my god is this really happening </em>kiss. It’s nothing and everything at the same time. A tingling sensation runs from Maca’s head all the way down to her toes, and Zulema’s hand comes up to rest on the blonde’s cheek. Macarena wouldn’t mind if they stayed like this for the rest of the day, but the brunette decides to run her right hand back down the soft body underneath her once more. And eventually, Maca moans into the brunette’s mouth when Zulema slides one finger back inside her again. </p><p>In that moment, Zulema is sure that there must be no better feeling in this world than the one she has right now. The blonde trembling underneath her, clenching around her fingers and - fucking <em> finally </em>- their lips pressed together. Until Macarena squirms, a little uncomfortable. “Too sensitive,” she mumbles and grabs Zulema’s wrist to pull the hand away from her center. “Just kiss me.”</p><p>So they do. Gentle and easy, because today has been rough enough. They stay like that until Zulema’s left arm starts to tingle from leaning on it for too long and she can barely feel her fingertips anymore. She decides to lay down next to the blonde, who’s trying to catch her breath from their kiss. </p><p>
  <em> What the fuck just happened?  </em>
</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. confrontations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not completely satisfied with this, but it'll have to do. Hope you enjoy it. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zulema stares at the white ceiling. She’s laying on her back on the king sized bed with Macarena next to her. Her left hand rests on her bare stomach and the other feels the soft sheets beneath her fingers. She’s quiet, thinking and overthinking about what they just did.</p><p>They broke Macarena’s first and most important rule. They kissed. And it was not ‘just’ a kiss, it was too deep and long and so full of emotions to not mean anything. </p><p>Zulema is in the middle of scolding herself for letting go like that when she feels Macarena’s eyes on her, studying her face. </p><p>“You look worried.” </p><p>The brunette shrugs and waits. Two seconds. Three.</p><p>“We broke your rule.” </p><p>Macarena bites her lip, thinking before she answers.</p><p>“I didn’t mind. Did you?”</p><p>Zulema continues staring at the ceiling, although this is becoming significantly harder as she feels the blonde turn onto her side to get a better look at her. The thirty minutes have passed for sure, but Macarena isn’t making any move to get up.</p><p>“You know this is not going to work,” Zulema tells her. </p><p>“Why not?” Macarena counters. “I’ve told you before that you make me feel different. I don’t feel like this with my other clients.” </p><p>“It’s just … not.” </p><p>Maca reaches out to grab Zulema’s hand - the one that’s resting on her stomach - and laces their fingers together. The brunette pulls back immediately. “What are you doing?” The blonde doesn’t answer and tries again, but Zulema won’t let her. This was never meant to be intimate. </p><p>Not one to give up this easily, Maca decides to just rest her hand on the older woman’s bare stomach. “I need to know. Why can’t we do this?” </p><p>Macarena feels her hand rise and fall when Zulema sighs. “We don’t have time to talk about this. I’m sure thirty minutes have passed by now,” the brunette answers and tries to sit up, but a surprisingly strong arm around her waist holds her down. “<em>Me da igual,</em>” the blonde replies. “Let them wait.”  </p><p>They share a few seconds of silence before Zulema sits up again, throwing a look at Macarena that makes her let go of the brunette immediately. The older woman reaches over the edge of the bed for her shirt, because she needs to be dressed to feel more in control of this situation. “Fine,” she gives in, letting out a loud sigh. “You want to know?”</p><p>Macarena sits up as well, still in her underwear. She doesn’t seem to care. </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Zulema pulls her shirt over her head and faces the younger woman. “Because one, I don’t trust people. I mean, I don’t trust <em> anyone </em> except for my best friend. I’ve been misled too many times in my life to even think about trusting someone again. And two, being with me means trouble.”</p><p>Macarena, silently listening to the brunette until now, frowns at this last sentence. “What kind of trouble?”</p><p>“My job. It’ll indirectly put you in danger and I don’t want that.” </p><p>The blonde’s frown doesn’t disappear. She’s trying very hard to keep up with this conversation and the things Zulema is saying. What doesn’t make it any easier, is that the brunette still hasn’t told anything about her job. “Are you finally gonna tell me what you do now?” Maca asks. </p><p>Zulema slightly tilts her chin upwards. <em> Fine. I’ll tell her. That’ll scare her off.  </em></p><p>“I can only tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else. If you do, I’ll have to kill you.”</p><p>Macarena chuckles at first, until she meets Zulema’s dark green eyes again and realizes the brunette is being dead serious. </p><p>“Oh. Eh, sure, I guess?”</p><p>The brunette shakes her head, not satisfied with this answer. “Yes or no.” </p><p>“Yes- No,” Maca stumbles over her words. “Yes, I understand. No, I won’t tell anyone.”</p><p>Zulema moves off the bed and stands up, grabbing her jeans from the floor in the process. Macarena remains on the bed, sitting with her legs crossed, and she looks up at the brunette who looks slightly more intimidating now she’s standing up.</p><p>“I run a drug cartel here in the city.” </p><p>Macarena’s mouth falls open. That’s definitely not the answer she expected. </p><p>“<em>Cómo?” </em></p><p>Zulema slides both legs into her jeans and pulls them over her hips.</p><p>“Yeah. Exactly.”</p><p>The younger woman untangles her legs and throws them over the edge of the bed before pushing herself up. Zulema watches as Macarena walks towards her, still in that <em> fucking distracting </em>pair of underwear, and comes to a stop a few inches in front of her. </p><p>“I don’t care,” she says to the older woman. Does Zulema think she’s scared of her now? “I don’t care what you do. I like you.”</p><p>The brunette laughs shortly. “Don’t,” she shakes her head, “It’s not worth it, I promise. I have nothing to offer.”</p><p>Macarena steps into the other woman’s personal space. Slowly but surely, her arms come up and slide themselves around the back of Zulema’s neck, resting them there. The brunette doesn’t protest, but doesn’t make any move to touch her either. </p><p>“You have given me so much already,” Macarena whispers. “I can be myself when I’m with you. I don’t have to put on a nice face because you’re not just another client, and I don’t have to walk on my toes because you’re not Miguel.” </p><p>Zulema steps backwards, away from Macarena. She can’t think straight when the blonde is touching her. “How's the Miguel thing? You said you’re going to break up with him.” </p><p>Macarena laces her own hands together, her eyes dropping down to the floor. She opens her mouth to start a sentence, but can’t find the right words to explain. </p><p>“Well?” Zulema pushes. “I told you I can’t do this. And it seems you’re not sure either, so why even bother?”</p><p>“No!” Macarena counters. “I’m sure of this. Of us.”</p><p>“There <em> is </em>no us, Maca.”</p><p>“I’m scared of him, alright?” the blonde replies. She turns away, unable to face the brunette any longer. “And I hate myself for it.” The obvious disgust in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Zulema, who watches the blonde’s movements closely. She’s uneasy, uncomfortable almost, but not because of Zulema. It’s the subject that does this to her. The older woman has to resist the urge to move closer towards Macarena again and wrap her arms around her. The thought of Maca having to deal with this all by herself causes an unexplainable sadness in Zulema’s chest. But the blonde continues talking again, and it’s not like the brunette would ever give into that feeling of affection. </p><p>“I’m a grown woman and have the right to break up with him.” Macarena turns back to Zulema. “I should be able to handle him.” </p><p>“That’s what I thought when I was in your situation.” </p><p>The words slip out before Zulema can stop them, and she only realizes the impact they have when Macarena’s eyes go wide. There’s a short silence before the blonde steps closer - doing exactly what Zulema never would - and closes the distance between them again, her hands finding the clothed skin of the brunette’s waist.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I just meant to say that,” Zulema tries not to get distracted by Maca’s fingers running comforting circles over her hip, “Sometimes it’s better to just walk away. If you try to fight someone, you’ll only end up getting hurt.”</p><p>Macarena reaches for both the older woman’s hands and pulls them towards her own hips, shivering when Zulema’s cold fingers meet her skin. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away again, and Macarena wraps her own hands back around Zulema’s waist before looking up into familiar green eyes. “Why are you fighting me then?” she asks. </p><p>Zulema is taken aback by the abrupt change of subject and the direct question. This wasn’t meant to be about her. But somehow, the young woman in front of her sees right through her and the concrete walls around her heart, and manages to talk to her in a way that doesn’t make her want to run. Not anymore. </p><p>“Because walking away doesn't seem like an option.” </p><p>Macarena knows better than to respond. This is Zulema telling her there's a possibility, that deep down she wants this too. Maybe she just hasn't fully realized it yet. And Maca can <em>feel</em> the vulnerability and uncertainty coming from the woman in front of her, so she needs to let her know she understands. Words are too dangerous. She finds another way. </p><p>Her hands run up the older woman’s body until they reach her shoulders, and Maca ignores how Zulema stiffens at the touch. As long as the brunette doesn’t pull away, it’s fine.  </p><p>Macarena leans in, slowly, giving the other woman time to stop her. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she whispers. A warning, if needed.</p><p>They both sigh when their lips meet for the second time today, and Zulema’s fingers tighten around the blonde’s hips. It results in a short intake of breath from Macarena and Zulema decides she wants her even closer, so she pulls the younger woman flush against her, swallowing her moan. They stay like that with their lips pressed against each other for a few minutes, entwined and exchanging kisses in front of the door that’ll lead them back into real life. That door feels like an invisible border that neither woman wants to cross; not now, not when they have this moment all to themselves. </p><p>“Zulema,” Macarena whispers, resting her forehead against the brunette’s and still feeling a little out of breath from their kiss. “About what you said. Did someone hurt you?”</p><p>The older woman’s eyes remain closed, her forehead against Maca’s. “I don’t want to talk about it now.” </p><p>Macarena notes the <em> now </em>at the end of the sentence. It means Zulema hasn’t completely refused, but the moment just isn’t right. She nods in understanding. </p><p>“I have to go,” Zulema says. However, she makes no move to pull out of their embrace. They both don’t want this moment to end. It’s only when Macarena leans in again and presses their lips together once more before quickly pulling back that the brunette decides it’s really time to go. They step away at the same time and Zulema reaches for the door, trying to ignore the strange feeling in her chest that comes with the thought of having to leave the blonde again.</p><p>“I know you said this isn’t going to work,” Macarena says while passing the older woman and walking into the hallway, “but just think about it. Please.” </p><p>Zulema bites her lip. </p><p><em> The thought hasn’t left my mind</em>. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema pulls her phone from her pocket when she sits down in the driver’s seat of her car and her heart rate speeds up when she sees the message on the screen. </p><p>
  <em> One missed call.  </em>
</p><p>She unlocks her phone and finds the list of calls, where one number shows up in red. </p><p>Pablo.</p><p>Without thinking, she hits the call button and nervously taps her foot against her car door while she waits for him to pick up.</p><p>“<em>Hola, Zulema.</em>”</p><p>Once again not in for small talk, Zulema replies immediately. </p><p>
  <em> “Por qué me has llamado?” </em>
</p><p>For a few seconds, it’s silent on the other side of the line. Pablo lets out a sigh. “Ramirez is back early,” he finally tells her. “He’s arrived in Madrid this afternoon.” </p><p>Zulema swallows. Her free hand grips the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “That doesn’t sound good. He wasn’t supposed to be back until next week, right?” </p><p><em> “Sí,” </em> Pablo confirms. “He wants to talk to you.”</p><p>The slight emphasis on <em> talk </em>makes the hairs on the back of Zulema’s neck stand up. She doesn’t trust Pablo. All she needs him for is a direct connection between her and other drug dealers in this city. But if it comes down to it, they both know he’s on Ramirez’s side. </p><p>“When?” Zulema questions. The digital numbers on the touchscreen in her car show the time. 8:24PM. She hears a bit of rustling on the other side of the line before Pablo answers.</p><p>“Tonight. 10PM.”</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>Pablo describes the place; an abandoned alley in Huertas, in the middle of Ramirez’s territory and therefore relatively unknown to Zulema. But the brunette knows she can't refuse to meet him. Not for her own safety and that of Saray and her girlfriend. </p><p>“Fine. Tell Ramirez I’ll be there.”</p><p>She disconnects and takes a shaky breath. This entire thing feels off, but she can’t put her finger on what it is. First, one of her boys sells their drugs in Ramirez’s territory, something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. He said it was an accident and she believed him, because he was fairly new to their group. <em> Maybe that’s exactly the problem. Maybe Ramirez sent him to destroy her organization from the inside.  </em></p><p>Her fingers have found Saray’s number without thinking about it and she presses the call button once more. It doesn’t take long for her best friend to answer the phone.</p><p>“<em>Zuleee. Qué tal?” </em></p><p>“I need your help,” the older woman says, already reaching into her pocket for her keys. She puts them in the ignition while answering. “Ramirez wants to meet me tonight. I need you to come with me.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The alley is indeed abandoned. It’s at least three blocks away from one of the main streets and all Zulema finds are some old dumpsters, a dirty mattress and a cat. The latter shoots away into the street at the sight of her. </p><p>Her loaded gun - stored safely between the skin of her lower back and her black jeans - weighs heavy. She scans her surroundings to look for possible threats while she makes her way to the end of the alley. Nothing seems unusual, although there are some dark places in between the dumpsters and cardboard boxes stalled next to them. </p><p>Having reached the end of the alley, Zulema turns around and leans her back against the concrete wall while keeping a close eye on where the street starts and the alley ends. It can’t be more than two minutes later when she hears the echo of footsteps. She pushes against the concrete with her foot and starts moving, taking a few steps towards the safety of the street. She doesn’t want to be completely cornered against a wall. </p><p>And there he is. Ramirez. </p><p>Tall. Dark hair. A leather jacket, dark denim jeans and expensive sneakers. And she bets he’s wearing a thousand dollar watch under those sleeves as well. </p><p>“Zulema.” </p><p>He walks towards her. She does the same, and they meet in the middle. </p><p>“Ramirez.” The brunette straightens her back and lifts her chin a tiny bit, just enough to look more confident. “It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.” </p><p>Zulema has known his name for years, but she’s never met up with him. They’re rivals, why would they? Everyone knows which district belongs to whom. Stay away from each other and save yourself some trouble.</p><p>But it’s too late for that, apparently.</p><p>“Likewise,” Ramirez replies. “Although I would’ve preferred to meet you under different circumstances.” He takes a step back again and his hands disappear into the front pockets of his jeans. “So. What were you doing in my district?” </p><p>Zulema slides one hand into the pocket of her bomber jacket and leaves the other one hanging casually next to her body. “It was one of our new guys, he started working for us a couple of weeks ago,” she starts. “I explained to him which streets are mine and which are yours, like I always do with new people who start working for me. Apparently he misunderstood. It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”</p><p>He clicks his tongue and the noise echoes in the alley. “And I’m supposed to believe that? How do I know you’re not trying to take over my district?” </p><p>“How do I know you’re not trying to take over <em> mine</em>?” Zulema counters. “I heard you’re trying to expand. How do I know you haven’t sent him?” </p><p>Ramirez smiles. “You don’t. I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He takes another step back, getting closer to the street. Zulema eyes him suspiciously. She doesn’t like this at all. “And now what?” she asks, trying to get him to talk. “What do you want me to say?” </p><p>“Nothing,” he answers. “I want you to choose.” </p><p>Zulema frowns. The hand that was buried in the pocket of her jacket appears again, because this entire situation makes her feel threatened. </p><p>“Between what?”</p><p>“Between your business,” Ramirez starts. “And your lovely <em> gitana</em>, who’s sitting in your Audi two blocks away, waiting for you.” </p><p>Zulema’s stomach turns and she feels the sudden urge to throw up. How does he know? Her hands itch for her weapon, tucked safely in the waistband of her jeans. She really considers grabbing it. Fuck, how good it must feel to shoot this motherfucker. </p><p>“Well?” he questions. “You don’t have much time. Your business or your friend.” </p><p>“Neither,” Zulema growls in response. “I don’t negotiate.” </p><p>Ramirez looks mildly impressed, but that annoying smile doesn’t leave his face. “Too bad. I don’t want to hurt her. Just like I don’t want to hurt you.” </p><p>Zulema’s eyes flicker down to his hands. They’re just hanging loosely next to his hips. No knife or gun, nothing.</p><p>She looks up at him again and raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re missing a weapon.” </p><p>Ramirez nods. “I am,” he replies. “But he’s not.”</p><p>Zulema realizes the meaning of his words a second too late and when she notices that he’s no longer looking at her, but at something - or someone, rather - just over her shoulder, she knows she’s in trouble.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. wounds heal, feelings stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!! trigger warning !! for explicit mention of verbal and physical abuse. it’s in italics (not the first small part right below this, but the longer one in the next paragraph), so you can skip it if you want. there will be more mentions throughout the chapter though, but it won't be as explicit as this first part. I might just as well put a trigger warning for general violence on this. take care of yourselves. ♥️</p><p>also, this chapter is long. like, super long. 4500 words. 🙄 I got so annoyed while editing this because I was like ... who even wants to read such a chapter. but whatever. here it is. ☺️✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’s in pain. It feels like the entire left side of her body is on fire and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Not that it’s weird when you’ve just been stabbed and you’re bleeding right through your shirt.</p><p>“Zule!” </p><p>A voice calls out behind her. The brunette doesn’t have the strength to respond. It hurts too much. She’s already relieved that her best friend listened to her. </p><p><em>The brunette pulls her gun from the glove compartment and shoves it in the back of her jeans. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, I’m in trouble.” <br/></em> <em>Saray watches her with a worried expression. “What do you want me to do then?” Zulema meets her eyes. "Come look for me. There’s another gun in there,” she points towards the glove compartment. “I don’t really feel like getting abducted by these guys.” </em></p><p>Although she didn’t get abducted, Zulema wasn’t quick enough to wind off the attack that caused a knife to slice through the skin on the left side of her body. She was, however, quick enough to pull her gun from where it was hiding in the waistband of her jeans and shoot at the unknown attacker before he could stab her again. He stumbled backwards with one hand pressed to his bleeding abdomen, and eventually fell onto the street, unconscious. Ramirez was long gone by then, and Zulema had lowered herself onto the floor. Praying that he wouldn’t get to Saray.</p><p>Her prayers are answered. The tall brunette rounds the corner not many minutes later and spots Zulema immediately. She makes her way over to the older woman and kneels down next to her. One of Saray’s cheeks is smeared with blood, and Zulema simply points at it. She doesn’t have the strength to actually voice her concerns. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Saray manages. “I saw him coming. Shot him in the leg and he ran. Your car window is shattered, though.” </p><p>Zulema wants to say it’s fine. She can’t. </p><p>Her best friend inspects the wound on her side, which is still bleeding profusely. “Fucking idiot,” the younger woman whispers, her voice a little hoarse. Seeing her best friend in pain worries her. Zulema feels an arm wrapping itself around her waist and pulling her up from the concrete. She groans in pain.</p><p>“I know,” Saray replies. “Come on. I parked the car just around the corner.” She pulls Zulema with her, back towards her car. Towards safety. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’s in pain. It feels like the entire left side of her body is on fire and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Not that it’s weird when you’ve just had another argument with your boyfriend and he hit you with his fists, severely bruising at least three of your ribs.</p><p>
  <em> “Are you gonna get up or what?” he yells. It’s too loud and too much. “I bet you’re too weak for that.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Macarena flinches when she feels his hand tighten itself in her hair, before he pulls her up from the kitchen floor. Closing her eyes as he pushes her backwards until her back hits the cold refrigerator door. She cries out in pain when his fist connects with her rib cage and she pushes against his chest, trying to get him away from her. But he’s too strong, and she’s hurting too much.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When the next blow comes, she doesn’t cry out. Instead, she wraps her arms around herself and tries to turn away to shield most of her body from him. He’s yelling insults at her but she doesn’t hear them anymore. Everything is muffled and blurry, and she tries to pretend she isn’t here.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema. How badly she wants to be with the brunette right now. In her arms, in her bed. Or just in her presence, if Zulema doesn’t want anything else.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When she opens her eyes again, Miguel has turned away from her and runs a hand through his locks. He turns around and Maca flinches, already preparing herself for more. But he simply looks at her up and down before scoffing. “You look like shit.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She waits until their bedroom door falls closed before her hand comes up to find whatever it is that’s hurting her lip. She carefully wipes across the skin, only to realize there’s blood on her hand now. Taking three steps towards the sink, Macarena lets the water run and touches her face again. Most of the blood from her split lip has now transferred onto her hand and she holds it under the tap, only to pull back immediately when the cold water stings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She opts for resting both hands on the counter - one dry and one wet - and looks at her own fingers, remembering when they were touching someone’s skin a few days ago. Zulema’s voice fills her head, “walking away from this isn’t an option”, and the blonde manages a weak smile at the memory.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s Zulema’s eyes she thinks of when she sits down on the sofa with her head in her hands, sore all over and a headache already playing up. It’s Zulema’s hands she thinks of as she runs her own over the bruises on her ribs, and she finally falls asleep to the thought of Zulema’s fingers on her skin.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When she wakes up the next morning, her body hurts enough that she has to call in sick.</p><p>She wishes for the bruises to disappear so she can go back to work again. But they only get worse during the four days that she’s at home, like Google said they would. Things get worse before they get better. Miguel disappears for two whole days and comes back on the third day with some flowers for her.</p><p>He kisses her cheek and then her lips and tells her he’s so sorry. It really won’t happen again. </p><p>She doesn’t believe him anymore. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Today marks five days since Macarena has been to <em> Libertad. </em>She rests her hand on the door knob of the ‘employees only’ door and tries to take a deep breath. Her body still hurts, but not as much as it did in the beginning. She should be able to do this. Besides, she really needed to get out of her apartment. </p><p>She pushes against the door and walks into the club, where Katia greets her from her usual spot behind the bar. The blonde bartender is getting things ready before the first people come. “Maca! Where have you been?” Katia asks. She immediately comes from behind the bar to give her a hug. Macarena tries not to flinch when the other woman squeezes just a little too hard. “I’ve been sick,” the blonde replies. Not convincing enough it seems, because Katia lifts her chin with two fingers to make eye contact. <em> “Estás bien? Qué ha pasado?”  </em></p><p><em> “Nada,” </em> Macarena shrugs it off. “<em>Estoy bien. </em> It was just a fever.<em>”  </em>She doesn’t want to tell her. There’s only one person she wants to tell. “Has Zulema been around?” </p><p>Katia studies her face for a few more seconds before she makes her way back to the bar, answering the question in the meantime. “Nope. I haven’t seen her, at least not while you were gone.”</p><p>A frown appears on Maca’s face. “But she’s been here every few days. There’s never been more than a week between visits. It’s been, how much now? Eight days?” </p><p>Katia smiles. “You’re keeping track?” she mocks her friend, knowing full well that something is happening between the two women. “Maybe something came up.” </p><p>
  <em> Something like kissing her, yes.  </em>
</p><p>“Hey,” Katia rests her hand on her friend’s arm. “She’ll come back. I’m sure of it.” </p><p>Macarena manages a smile. “Thank you.”</p><p>But Zulema doesn’t come back. Not today, and not the day after. It’s been ten days, and Macarena is slowly starting to lose hope. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>What the blonde doesn’t know is that Zulema spends most of her days in bed or on the couch. Her left side still hurts like a bitch, although Saray’s girlfriend has done a pretty good job at stitching her up. </p><p>
  <em> “It’s not deep enough to have harmed anything,” Maya says, carefully inspecting the cut. Zulema finds herself on her best friend’s couch with a towel underneath her to prevent any blood from leaking onto the grey surface. “It’s just long and painful, and will remain that way for a while,” Maya continues. She looks up at her girlfriend. “Saray, can you hand me the alcohol?”   </em>
</p><p>Zulema had been feeling a little dizzy from the blood loss; despite the fact that the cut wasn’t deep enough to harm anything vital, Zulema had still lost a sufficient amount of blood. Saray insisted on driving her home and the older woman felt too weak to protest. She didn’t protest either when Saray announced that she’d come over every morning to check on Zulema. Today is day nine, and the brunette is already having her morning coffee when Saray texts her to let her know she’s almost there. </p><p>Not many minutes later, the buzzer rings and Zulema opens the door for her best friend. </p><p>“Hey! You look much better,” Saray says, carefully pulling the older woman into a hug. She waits for Zulema to pull back and makes sure to close the door behind her before following the older woman into the kitchen, where a coffee is already waiting for her. She takes the mug from Zulema and they make their way into the living room, sitting down on the couch. </p><p>“I’m doing good,” the older woman says. “You don’t need to check up on me every day anymore.” </p><p>Saray chuckles. “Of course. That’s what you’ve been saying the past nine days.” </p><p>Zulema takes a sip of the hot liquid inside her mug. “I’m serious. It doesn’t really hurt anymore. Just when I turn around too quickly, or anything like that.” </p><p>“<em>Vale, vale,</em>” Saray replies. She puts her mug down - the coffee is way too hot to drink, how does Zulema do this? - and rests her elbow on the back of the couch. “Still I’d prefer coming over for a little longer, just to check.” </p><p>Zulema rolls her eyes in response. A comfortable silence falls between them, both still half-asleep and too lost in their own thoughts to make conversation. Until the older woman starts again.</p><p>“I’m thinking of going back to<em> Libertad </em>tonight.”</p><p>Saray frowns. “Already? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”</p><p>“Hm,” Zulema mumbles in response. How can she explain to Saray what’s going on? The younger woman doesn’t even know they’ve kissed. And Zulema isn’t planning on telling her anytime soon either.</p><p>“What’s going on between you and that blonde, Zule?”</p><p>“Nothing,” comes the quick reply. “It’s just stress relief. What you said.” </p><p>“But there’s no way you can fuck her in this condition,” Saray notes. “You can barely pull your shirt over your head.”</p><p>“I’m doing much better,” Zulema replies immediately. “Besides, who says I’m going to fuck her? I could always just pay for a lap dance.” </p><p>“Sure,” Saray says, her eyes already twinkling before she starts her next sentence. “Or you could always just let her sit on your-”</p><p>“<em>Tía! Cállate.</em>” Zulema gives her best friend a shove, almost causing her to spill her coffee everywhere. “That’s none of your business, idiot.” </p><p>The younger woman just laughs. “Alright. But something is going on, and I’m going to find out what it is.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>True to her word, Zulema finds herself back in <em> Libertad </em>that same evening. She’s already noticed the blonde ten minutes ago, but Macarena isn’t paying much attention this time.</p><p>It only happens halfway through the pole dancing show that Macarena sees her.</p><p>The blonde is on the main stage doing a routine when her eyes fall onto a familiar looking brunette sitting at the bar and she freezes on the spot. Looking at the other girls, Maca decides that she can go; they’re not doing a synchronized routine, they’re just all moving to the music, so she won’t be missed. </p><p>Off the stage and through the changing rooms she goes, trying hard not to run and make herself look like an absolute fool. She pushes against the door that leads into the main area of the club and makes her way through the crowd towards the bar.</p><p>Zulema is watching everything with an amused smile on her face, and can’t help but comment on all of this when Maca comes to a halt in front of her. “Are you that happy to see me, <em>rubia</em>?” she mocks, but the blonde doesn’t respond. She grabs Zulema’s hand instead and pulls her from her bar stool, ignoring her still half full glass on the bar. </p><p>Up the stairs, through the hallway, into the familiar room on their left. </p><p>When the door falls shut behind them, Macarena turns around and wraps her arms around Zulema, burying her face in the brunette’s chest. The older woman stands very still, both surprised and confused by the scene unfolding in front of her. Until she feels the blonde starts to shake, and eventually decides to wrap her arms around Macarena too. </p><p>“I need your help,” the blonde mumbles into her sweater. Zulema’s arms tighten around the younger woman, ignoring the dull pain in her side. </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>Macarena takes a shaky breath in an attempt to calm down. The relief of seeing the brunette again, mixed with the pain she’s been through the past couple of weeks, comes together in a weird mix of emotions.</p><p>“You need to help me get me away from him.”</p><p>She steps out of their embrace, ignoring the few tears still sliding down her cheeks, and pulls her top over her head with a grimace of pain to reveal at least six bruises - some faded, some still very visible - in different shapes and colors all over her chest, ribs and stomach. </p><p>Zulema reaches out for her and very carefully runs her fingers over them. Goosebumps rise all over Maca’s body at the brunette’s touch.</p><p>“Did he do all of this?”</p><p>Macarena nods almost imperceptibly. Zulema’s expression goes hard, angry. “I’m going to kill him,” she growls, her eyes never leaving the bruises. But the blonde starts to protest, lifting one hand up to rest on the brunette’s cheek and meeting her gaze. “No- You’ll get in trouble,” she says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for me. Please. I just need to get out of there.” </p><p>Zulema looks into light green eyes and the pain and desperation she sees in them hurt her more than she expects. Maybe because this is Macarena, or maybe because she recognizes that look. It reminds her of old times; of the look she gave her parents, who made her marry some old man when she was only fourteen years old. It reminds her of the look she gave the young man who took her in when she was on the run, the man whom she trusted with everything she had. Until he told her she had to work for him to ‘pay off her debts’, and made her sleep with every single one of his friends. She was sixteen and scared, and although the blonde woman in front of her is not sixteen at all, the emotions she feels must be similar. And she doesn’t wish those on anyone, let alone Macarena.</p><p>“Alright. I’ll help you,” she replies without a second thought, ignoring the fact that she’s never done this for anyone. But then again, she’s never felt this way about someone either. “We’ll find a way.” </p><p>Macarena’s eyes well up with tears again, but they’re tears of relief this time. <em>We’ll find a way</em>. “Thank you,” she whispers, wrapping both arms around Zulema’s neck. “Thank you so much.” And then she adds, barely audible, but still loud enough for Zulema to hear. </p><p>“I missed you.” </p><p>Her eyes briefly drop to the brunette’s lips and her expression says it all. But Macarena hesitates, although she really wants to lean in. Is she allowed to do this? The last time they kissed, Zulema disappeared. Maca still doesn’t know the reason behind it, and the brunette doesn’t lean in to close the distance between them either. When Macarena doesn’t move and Zulema loses her patience, she raises her eyebrows and breaks the silence. </p><p>“Why don’t you do it?”</p><p>The younger woman lowers her eyes, too embarrassed to keep looking at Zulema. “The last time I kissed you was right before you left.”</p><p>Zulema’s hands find Maca’s hips. She’s stopped being surprised at how natural the movement feels.</p><p>“I didn’t leave because of you,” she replies. “I left because I had to.” </p><p>Macarena’s eyes stay focused on her lips for a few more seconds before she meets Zulema’s eyes again. “Your job?” she questions. </p><p>The brunette steps out of their embrace and Maca lets her go, watching as she slowly pulls her hoodie and then her shirt over her head, revealing a black bra and her own injuries. </p><p>“What happened?” Macarena’s heart skips a beat at the sight. </p><p>A long cut - still a little red and swollen - runs all the way down Zulema’s left side and over her hip, until it disappears into her pants. “Some guy had a knife. I didn’t see it in time, tried to turn away, but it was already too late.” It’s only a brief description of the events that happened, but it’ll do. The blonde takes a step closer and reaches out to touch the skin, but the brunette flinches immediately and Macarena pulls away again, already apologizing.</p><p>“Sorry.” </p><p>Zulema shakes her head, silently conveying that it’s alright. So Macarena tries again. She reaches out slowly, giving the brunette time to anticipate the movement. And this time, the scorpion doesn’t flinch when Maca’s finger touches her skin and runs her finger over the long cut. </p><p>“Does it hurt?”</p><p>Zulema shrugs. “Not too much. Just when I make a wrong move or put pressure on it.” </p><p>“So that’s why you were away for so long,” Macarena realizes.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Not because we kissed?”</p><p>Zulema hesitates. Admitting this out loud will make everything real. But she can't help it.</p><p>“No.” </p><p>Macarena seems to realize the heaviness of this confession when Zulema starts fidgeting in the silence that follows. She reaches out and takes the brunette’s hands in hers and surprisingly, Zulema allows her to. </p><p>Their eyes meet once more, silent emotions passing between them. Macarena pulls on Zulema’s hands and makes them rest on the bare skin of her waist. When Macarena is sure they’ll stay there, her own arms find their way around Zulema’s neck again. </p><p>It only takes one certain look and the bite of a lip for the familiar tension between them to rise again. Maca laces her hands together behind the brunette’s neck and leans in, just a little.</p><p>“Kiss me.” </p><p>The additional <em> please </em> doesn’t leave her lips, but both women hear it anyway. Zulema obeys immediately, she doesn’t want to waste another <em> second</em>, and leans in to press their lips together while her hands tighten around the blonde’s waist. They start off slowly, exploring each other as if this is their first time. But they move towards hot and heavy pretty quickly - ten days away from each other has been way too long - and Macarena walks backwards towards the bed, pulling Zulema with her. But the brunette stops her.</p><p>“Wait- Maca,” she starts, one hand moving from the blonde's waist up to her collarbone to create the tiniest bit of distance between them. Enough to focus. “I don’t- I can’t really …,” she struggles. “I can’t lean on my arm like I always do. I can’t be on top of you.” </p><p>
  <em> And I’m not ready for it to be the other way around. </em>
</p><p>Macarena knows this. She pauses to think of a way that she can make this work for the both of them.</p><p>After a few seconds, she steals another kiss from the brunette and pulls back to whisper against soft lips.</p><p>“I know something that’ll work.”</p><p>Maca slips her arms from around the older woman’s neck and motions for her to stay put. She takes the last step towards the bed and sits down in her underwear, crossing one leg over the other, and rests her left hand behind her on the mattress for support. This stretch backwards pulls on the muscles in her stomach, and she bites her lip against the short flash of pain that shoots through her body in the places where it hurts. But she couldn’t care less right now.</p><p>“Watch me.” </p><p>Macarena waits until Zulema’s eyes focus on her and uncrosses her legs again, now fully exposing herself to the brunette aside from the thin piece of fabric she calls underwear. She rests her right hand on her knee and very slowly slides it up her bare leg while maintaining eye contact with the woman standing in front of her. Zulema can’t seem to focus on Macarena’s eyes, she’s too drawn to the hand on her leg that’s slowly making its way upwards. Maca’s hand pauses for a second, and the brunette immediately protests. </p><p>“Don’t stop.” </p><p>It’s all Zulema can manage. And Macarena can tell by the way Zulema’s eyes darken that they’re thinking the same thing. Her own eyes sparkle with a challenge. </p><p>“Say it.” </p><p>Zulema exhales a shaky breath and rolls her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension. She looks the blonde up and down; her spread legs, the hand on her inner thigh, her lace underwear and matching bralette and the flush on her cheeks. She can't help but give in. </p><p>“Touch yourself.” </p><p>It’s meant to be a demand, but the pure lust in Zulema’s voice betrays her. Macarena can’t help but smile when she notices. This woman really has been different from the beginning; she has never given Maca a predatory look, like some of the men do in here. It’s always been lust and admiration. </p><p>She slowly slides her hands towards her own center and presses down with two fingers, exhaling at the sensation. It’s nothing compared to Zulema’s touch, but the fact that the brunette is watching her adds something to this. She starts moving, exploring herself over her underwear, and Zulema notices the exact moment Maca hits the right spot. Not because the younger woman is literally in front of her and she can see everything, but because of the way her eyes flutter closed and her head falls back. </p><p>And, of course, because of the words that leave her mouth.</p><p>“Oh <em> fuck</em>.” </p><p>The brunette has to bite back her own moan at the sight. “God, Maca, you’re ….,” she trails off. She’s pretty sure there are no words to describe how beautiful the blonde looks right now. </p><p>Macarena manages to open her eyes again. “Come here,” she pleads. “Sit next to me.” </p><p>
  <em> That should work.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema sits down on the left side, where Maca’s hand is leaning on the mattress, and crosses one leg underneath herself, while she lets the other dangle off the bed. She faces Maca, whose breath hitches before she speaks. “Please.” </p><p>“Please what?” </p><p>“Closer.” </p><p>Zulema moves closer until her still clothed leg touches Maca’s bare one. Her right arm finds its way around the blonde’s waist and keeps her steady, while pulling her body closer against her. Once again ignoring the annoying pain in her side. </p><p>“Like this?” she whispers, her lips right by Maca’s ear. The blonde lets her free hand rest on Zulema’s leg, pressing down with her nails while the movements of her right hand get more frantic.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>.” </p><p>Although this is nothing like their previous encounters, Zulema finds that it’s equally as intimate as being on top of the blonde. Maybe even more. Macarena has opened herself up to the brunette - both literally and figuratively - and is touching herself only for Zulema to see. She presses a kiss to the younger woman’s jaw and feels Macarena turn her head immediately, silently asking for more. </p><p>Zulema gives it to her in the form of a deep, but short kiss before she pulls back. Macarena whines, but doesn’t get much time to protest.</p><p>“Inside,” Zulema whispers against her lips. “Two fingers.”</p><p>She rather feels than sees the blonde move her hand; up towards her stomach and down again, this time underneath the piece of clothing. And the small sigh - and on the second exhale, a moan - against her lips tells her that the blonde has obeyed. </p><p>“Good?” Zulema asks. </p><p>The blonde isn’t capable of giving more than a small nod in response and her lips quickly find Zulema’s again, while her fingers keep moving inside of her. Zulema holds her close while they kiss, and Macarena leans against her with all her weight. Right when Zulema thinks the younger woman is close, Macarena moans the brunette’s name into their kiss. But there’s something in her voice that sounds off, and Zulema can’t quite place what it is. So she pulls back to be able to look at the other woman’s face, and she is met by teary eyes. </p><p>“I- I can’t,” Macarena manages, the desperation evident in her voice. She can’t get <em> there, </em>although the brunette is doing everything right. It’s just that every time she arches her back a little too much, the pain shoots through her chest and she’s reminded of everything that happened the past few days. She’s reminded of Miguel, and of how she has to go home to him again. She’s reminded of this fucking complicated thing she’s gotten herself into with the woman next to her. </p><p>“Don’t do that,” Zulema interrupts her thoughts. And her next words let Macarena know that the brunette understands exactly what she’s feeling right now. “Don’t think about him. Just feel.” </p><p>Macarena lets out a soft moan and shivers against the brunette. She wonders how Zulema knows what's going on in her head. The older woman hasn't yet told her the story behind the sentence that slipped out during their conversation almost two weeks ago. <em>That's what I thought when I was in your situation. </em>Although right now, Macarena is only glad she understands.</p><p>“Please,” the blonde moans. "More."</p><p>Zulema pulls the younger woman even closer against the side of her body that doesn’t hurt, while Maca’s right hand keeps moving between her own legs. And she knows what Macarena needs. So she presses a few kisses to the blonde's jaw and moves, despite the limited space, towards her neck and sucks softly on the skin. Oh how badly she’d want to leave her mark there. Up she goes, kissing and licking and sucking, all while she feels Macarena's breathing get faster and faster. Until she finally reaches her ear.</p><p>“I’m going to get you out of there," Zulema whispers. </p><p>“Promise,” Macarena immediately breathes in response. She’s right there. She just needs a last push. </p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>It’s enough.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That same evening, Zulema listens to the low ‘beep’ through the speakers of her phone while she waits for the person on the other side of the line to pick up. </p><p>“Zulema. What do you need?”</p><p>
  <em> Finally.  </em>
</p><p>“I need you to find someone’s address,” she replies. “This is strictly between us. No one else can know.” </p><p>The person on the other side of the line agrees. </p><p>“Understood. Do you have a name?”</p><p>Zulema pauses, images of a distraught blonde in her arms today flashing behind her eyes.</p><p>“Macarena Ferreiro.”</p><p>
  <br/>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. save me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>! trigger warning ! for abuse. nothing too explicit, but it's mentioned. </p><p>I'm working on an outline for this story now, because I basically jumped in and started writing this without knowing where it would go. I think the entire story will be around sixteen chapters, so we're definitely not done yet.</p><p>P.S. This chapter is a little short. I'm definitely not consistent in terms of length, have you noticed? I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> I shouldn’t do this. What the fuck was I thinking?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I have to do this. She’s in danger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Why help her? She’s a strong woman. She can handle this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I promised her. I can’t let her down. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And after you’ve saved her? Where is she going to stay? With you? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>.... </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It's day eleven of Saray checking up on Zulema. Today, the younger woman makes the coffee while Zulema waits on the couch. </p><p>“Do you really want to get involved in this?” she asks, pouring the hot liquid into the mugs. “It sounds like trouble.” She picks them up and makes her way into the living room, where her best friend is waiting for her. </p><p>“I have to help her, Saray,” Zulema replies, taking one of the mugs from her. “She practically begged me to.” The coffee is too hot to drink today, she decides, and puts it back on the table. </p><p>“But you barely know her,” Saray counters. “Do you need me to remind you how this started?” </p><p>“No, thanks,” Zulema says. </p><p>“You didn’t want attachments. You just wanted a quick fuck.”</p><p>“I said no, Saray,” the older woman interrupts her, pulling her right knee up to her chest and resting her chin on top of it. She knows her best friend is right. She hates it. “I just have to help her. I think I’m the only person she trusts right now.” </p><p>Saray keeps her expression neutral, but her mind is running wild. She’s never seen Zulema like this. “Why you? Doesn’t <em> la rubia </em> have other people?” </p><p>This throws Zulema off guard for a second. <em> Yes, why her? How did it even get to this point? </em>The older woman sighs. “I noticed her bruises. Then I forced her to tell me what was going on, so she did. I’ve never heard her talk about friends or family who know about this. Maybe she’s ashamed.” </p><p>“Hm,” Saray mumbles. “Do you already have a plan?” </p><p>“Not really.” Zulema takes her mug from the table and takes a sip. It’s a little more drinkable now. “I called one of my contacts to find out where she lives. He said he'd text me her address when he finds it."  </p><p>Saray mimics her friend’s motion and takes a sip as well. “What are you going to do when you get to her place?” </p><p>“Depends on the situation,” Zulema responds. “I just want to learn him a lesson.”  </p><p>Saray rolls her eyes. “No dead guys, Zule. Not again.” </p><p>A few days ago, they found out via their contacts that the guy who Zulema shot in the alley during her meeting with Ramirez had died. Although they haven’t heard anything from Ramirez since that encounter, Zulema is pretty sure that her rival won’t just leave it at this. The thing that worries her, though, is that she has no idea what he’s up to. </p><p>“Nah. I won’t kill him,” she replies. “I’ll just scare him off.” </p><p>“Alright,” Saray agrees. If Zulema is sure of something, there’s no way anyone can make her change her mind. “Just be careful. You’ve known this blonde for, what? A bit longer than a month? Don’t risk your life for her.” </p><p><em> I’m pretty sure I would, </em>Zulema thinks. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That same afternoon, the brunette gets a message from her contact with the address. Her body immediately tenses when the screen lights up; she’d promised she’d save her, but it was all in the heat of the moment. Things are starting to get real now. </p><p>Not many hours later, she finds herself in her car - Saray made sure her shattered window got fixed - and lets Google Maps find the route to the blonde’s place. It’s a fifteen minute drive and gives her enough time to overthink about what she’s gotten herself into. </p><p>
  <em> You’re really driving to a stranger’s house to save her from a situation you don’t know shit about? You’ve only seen her bruises and heard parts of her story. Maybe this guy is really fucking dangerous, and you’re just throwing yourself out there? Saray was right, you don’t even know this blonde. All you know is that she looks fucking hot when she comes.  </em>
</p><p>“Can you shut up?” Zulema says out loud to herself. She turns the volume of the car radio up, trying to drown out her thoughts. She’s nervous, and she’s not used to that feeling. It hasn’t bothered her in years. Only her first few times in <em> Libertad </em>and the meeting with Ramirez have awakened the unfamiliar feeling inside of her. </p><p>The songs on the radio do a pretty good job of distracting her and before Zulema knows it, she turns into the street where Macarena lives. The whole street is filled with buildings, either three or four stories high, and Zulema decides to drive past Macarena’s address and parks her car around the corner. Her gun waits for her in the glove compartment and she takes it with her, once again shoving it in the waistband of her jeans when she steps out of the car. The car locks and she takes a deep breath, turning towards the street. “Alright. <em> Vamos</em>.”</p><p>The street is a mixture of old and new. Macarena’s building is one of the newer ones and it has a modern, simplistic look to it. Not the kind of building you’d expect an abuser and his girlfriend to live in. But then again, where should these people live? They’re everywhere. That’s the scary part. </p><p>Zulema stops in front of the door that leads into the building. The frame seems to be made from some kind of steel and although the rest of the door is made from glass, the vertical bars running across it prevents anyone from just walking in here. Although she knows better, she still pushes against it, but the door doesn’t give way. <em> Well fuck. </em></p><p>The brunette inspects the lock, but quickly draws the conclusion that this isn’t going to work. <em> And now what? </em> She looks around her and spots three rows of doorbells on the wall, each one with their own name on it. Her eyes automatically search for Macarena Ferreiro, but her name is nowhere to be found. Her boyfriend probably owns the flat, and Zulema doesn’t know his last name. She pulls her phone from her pocket to check the text message she got earlier today. <em> Flat 221.  </em></p><p>Zulema bites her lip, thinking. If she pretends to live on the second floor, it would be stupid to ask someone of that floor to open the door for her. She has no idea if the people in this building know each other well enough to realize she doesn’t live here. She picks a random person who lives on the fourth floor - less chances of them knowing that she doesn’t live on the second - and presses their doorbell. </p><p>She waits ten seconds. No answer. She decides to try another doorbell. Nothing. On the third try, someone finally answers. </p><p>“<em>Sí? </em>”</p><p><em> “Hola, vivo en el segundo piso, pero me he olvidado la llave,</em>” she lies. “<em>Me puedes abrir la puerta? </em>”</p><p>It’s quiet for a few seconds and this does nothing to calm Zulema’s nerves.</p><p>“<em>En el segundo? Pero quién eres? </em>”  </p><p>Of course this was going to happen. The brunette’s mind is racing, trying to come up with a credible response. “I moved in three weeks ago, so you probably don’t know me yet. I live a few doors away from Macarena, <em> la conoces?</em> <em> La rubia.</em>” </p><p>“Oh yeah, I think I know who she is,” it sounds on the other side of the line. “Alright, come in. Don’t forget your keys again.” </p><p><em> “Sí, gracias,</em>” Zulema replies. At the same time, the door clicks open and she pushes against it, finally able to walk inside. The stairs are immediately to her right and she starts walking up the first flight and then the second, feeling the reassuring weight of her gun in her waistband. The first apartment on the second floor is 201. <em> Oh for fuck’s sake, </em> the brunette thinks. She starts walking - 203, 205, 207 - until she reaches the door of the blonde’s apartment. <em> Apartamento 221</em>, it reads on the door. </p><p>Zulema rests her ear against the wood, trying to listen to what's happening on the other side of it. The first thing she hears make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.  </p><p>"Miguel, please."</p><p>It’s Macarena. Begging. </p><p>A laugh follows. Then, a deep man’s voice. “You’re begging me already? I barely touched you. You’re fucking weak.”</p><p>The sound of a piece of clothing being torn in half reaches Zulema’s ears. It’s followed by Macarena’s voice. “Don’t do this. Miguel!” She sounds absolutely terrified.</p><p>Zulema feels the sudden urge to kick down the door. Shoot it down, even better. But she can’t. This needs to be clean and without too much trouble. Her hand comes up. Three knocks on the wood.</p><p>“Hello?” she calls out. “Open up.”</p><p>It goes completely silent inside the apartment. Zulema listens and hears the wooden floor crack lightly, followed by a scared whimper. That’s enough for her.</p><p>“Open up or I’ll fucking kick this door down. I’m not kidding!” she yells. “And don’t think I’m paying for a new one.”</p><p>“I’m coming!” a man’s voice calls out. There’s some rustling and mumbling until finally, the door opens, and Zulema is met by a blonde man in a white blouse and dark trousers. He looks heated. “What’s your problem?” </p><p>Zulema smiles. One hand goes around her back, already reaching for the weapon that’s safely tucked between her jeans and the bare skin of her back. “My problem,” she starts, “is that you can’t seem to keep your hands off your girlfriend.”</p><p>Miguel’s expression flashes from surprised - although he hides it very well - to absolutely furious and he takes a step towards her. “And who the fuck are you?” </p><p>Zulema looks up at him. He’s slightly taller, but she doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest. She’s probably stronger. And if not, she has a gun. </p><p>“I’m a stranger who has seen the bruises you left on your girlfriend’s body.” </p><p>He stares into her eyes. “I don’t see why this is any of your business,” he says, his voice too calm. “Besides, I’ve never laid a hand on my girlfriend.” It’s not convincing. And it doesn’t help that Macarena appears behind him in the living room, drawing Zulema’s attention away from the man standing in front of her. </p><p>Maca’s white nightgown is torn, leaving her entire left side exposed. A bruise with the shape of a handprint has already formed around her upper arm, and there’s a cut on her cheekbone. </p><p>Miguel follows her gaze and turns around, his face immediately changing into some weird expression of anger when he sees the blonde standing in the middle of the living room. He takes a step back into the apartment, ready to walk towards Macarena. “Fucking wh-” </p><p>A barrel presses against the back of his head.</p><p>“<em>Quieto.</em>” </p><p>He freezes. </p><p>“What the hell?” </p><p>Zulema laughs out loud at this. It’s a dark, throaty laugh filled with satisfaction and it nearly makes Miguel turn back around. But the sound of the safety pin clicking is enough to make sure that he stays right where he is.</p><p>The brunette raises her eyes towards Macarena. The blonde is still standing in the same spot as where Zulema first laid eyes on her.</p><p>“Maca.”</p><p>The blonde’s eyes flicker upwards. She can’t bring herself to talk. </p><p>“Cellphone, wallet and keys,” Zulema orders, but her tone is soft. The comment seems to shake Macarena out of whatever trance she’s in, and she starts moving. First towards the kitchen counter, where her phone and wallet are, then towards the coat rack to get her keys from the pocket of her jacket. This means she has to pass the two of them, and Zulema feels Miguel shift slightly. She presses the barrel even firmer against his head. “If you move, I’ll blow your head off,” Zulema whispers in his ear. He stays put. </p><p>Macarena looks at the brunette. Cellphone, wallet and keys. She’s done. Zulema nods towards the door. “<em>Espérame fuera.</em>” The blonde slips past them, her eyes focused on the wooden floor. </p><p>“Now listen to me, <em> cariño,</em>” Zulema says. It gives her a sick feeling of satisfaction when she notices how he tenses up at the pet name. “In a few seconds, I’m gonna walk out of this apartment. I’ll keep my gun aimed at your head, so if you turn around or decide to do anything stupid, you’re dead. Got it<em>? </em>” </p><p>Miguel knows better than to nod. He uses his voice. “Got it<em>.” </em></p><p>“Good,” Zulema replies. “And about your girlfriend. I’m pretty sure you’ll never see her again. If you do, she’ll have me by her side. So consider this your final warning. Stay away from her.” </p><p>She lowers the pressure of the gun against Miguel’s head away, wanting to see if he’s going to listen to her. It seems like he will, so she slowly makes her way backwards while she continues to aim the gun at the back of his head. The sight of the door frame swimming into view tells her that she’s reached the hallway. Zulema quickly glances towards her right and sees Maca standing against the wall. Her breathing is shallow, and her hands are trembling. </p><p>Miguel stays put, so Zulema assumes he’s heard her message and slowly lowers her gun. She takes a few steps to the side and holds out her hand towards Macarena, who immediately slips her own cold hand into the brunette’s warm one. Zulema squeezes it lightly. </p><p>“<em>Vámonos.</em>” </p><p>She pulls the blonde with her, down the first flight of stairs, listening carefully if Miguel is following them. But when they reach the second flight, the sound of a front door being slammed shut echoes through the building - inevitably startling Maca - and Zulema knows they’re safe now. Her gun disappears back into her pants and she takes the keys, wallet and cellphone from Macarena’s hands, sliding them too into the pockets of her own jeans. </p><p>The front door opens automatically on the way out and then they stumble out of the building, into the night air. Freedom. </p><p>Macarena feels tears running down her face. Her sight is blurry, and the only thing preventing her from falling is Zulema’s steady arm around her waist. They round the corner into the street where Zulema has parked her car and not even ten seconds later, the sound of the brunette’s car unlocking tells her that this is really happening. Zulema has saved her. </p><p>She wipes away some of the tears with the back of her hand, wishing to see clearly again. It’s only now that she realizes her entire body is filled with goosebumps. It is the end of November after all, and the only barrier between her skin and the night air is a ripped nightgown. Zulema opens the passenger door for her, but notices the same thing. “<em>Espera</em>.” The brunette says, pulling her sweatshirt over her head to reveal another long black t-shirt underneath. “Take this<em>.</em>” </p><p>Macarena’s trembling hands accept the sweatshirt and she slowly pulls it over her cold and aching body. When she’s done, she looks up at the brunette and feels the tears start to well up again. “I’m …,” Maca starts, but she can’t finish. </p><p>Zulema steps forward and pulls the smaller woman’s head to her chest, her fingers tangling in blonde locks. She feels Macarena shaking against her and she desperately wants to say something, but she can’t find the right words. Because what do you say in a situation like this? Not that she's ever been good with words anyway. </p><p>The brunette just hopes that the younger woman in her arms understands that she's safe now, that this nightmare is over. </p><p>They stand there in silence for a few seconds, until Zulema decides it's really time to go. “Come on, <em> rubia. </em>We have to leave.” She releases Maca and gently pushes her towards the passenger door. </p><p>“Where are we going?” the blonde asks. The fear in her voice hasn’t completely left. </p><p>Zulema’s response, however, takes all the doubts away from her mind. The brunette’s dark green eyes find hers.  </p><p>“I’m taking you home.”</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next week: an entire chapter of soft zurena to make up for this shorter one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. safe when I'm with you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another looooong chapter because you guys seemed to like that. I'm really nervous about this one. it's a lot of feelings and emotions and it's always hard to get that right. hope you like it. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Macarena falls asleep in the car on the way to Zulema’s apartment. It shows once again how much she trusts the other woman; falling asleep right after the situation she’d just gotten out of, in the car with a woman she’s only met a couple of times. Yet they share a connection that goes beyond anything either one of them can explain. </p><p>Zulema lowers the volume of her radio to prevent the blonde from waking up again. She drives in silence, occasionally stealing a glance at Maca, who’s laying with her head against the window and her hands resting in her lap. Zulema’s oversized sweater is a little big on her, and the brunette finds herself smiling at the sight. But then she shakes her head and focuses on the road again.</p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about her that way.  </em>
</p><p>When they arrive at Zulema’s apartment fifteen minutes later, Macarena is still asleep and doesn't notice when the brunette parks her car and turns off the engine. Zulema pulls the keys out of the ignition and shifts to face the sleeping blonde. She has to wake her up, so Zulema slowly reaches out - why is she nervous? - and brushes over Maca’s shoulder, but the touch is too light to wake her up. Zulema tries again, rubbing a little harder this time. Macarena stirs and it’s not much longer until her eyes flutter open.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>Confused by the affection she feels towards the sleepy blonde, Zulema pulls away. </p><p>“We’re here.” She opens her own door and gets out, while Macarena manages to push her exhausted and still sore body out of the car as well. The younger woman follows Zulema into the building and into the elevator, where the brunette presses the button of the seventh floor. They stand in silence while the elevator takes them to the top floor of the building, Macarena still in Zulema’s oversized sweater and the older woman in her long black shirt and jeans. </p><p>“Thank you,” the blonde breaks the silence. “For doing this.” </p><p>“<em>De nada</em>,” Zulema replies, although she’s starting to feel more uncomfortable now.</p><p>Before this night, she only took a woman home when the both of them were drunk and going to hook up. It’s never been like this. Never sober, with a blonde woman she has <em> feelings </em>for. </p><p>The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. A small hallway with only two doors greets them and Zulema steps out first, Maca right behind her. </p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m the only one who lives on this floor,” Zulema says a little unnecessarily. Her intention is to break the suddenly awkward silence between them, but it really only makes it worse. She finds her keys and opens the door of her apartment before walking inside, one hand reaching backwards to hold it open for the blonde. </p><p>The walls of the hallway are a deep shade of grey, but as far as Macarena can see, the rest of the apartment is black and white, with matching furniture and all. The small hallway leads into a big modern living room and an open plan kitchen on the left with a white marble counter and matte black cupboards. Maca is immediately attracted to the big windows on her right, showcasing the beauty of Madrid at night. </p><p>Zulema finds herself walking into the kitchen as the younger woman makes her way towards the windows. It’s not long until she spots the roof terrace. “Is that yours?”</p><p>“Yeah,” the brunette replies from the kitchen, where she drops Maca’s belongings and her own keys onto the counter. “I’ll show you in the morning.” </p><p>Maca wraps her arms around herself and stares at the city lights, trying to make sense of everything that’s happening. An hour ago, she was still in her own apartment with Miguel. Now, she’s in a strange apartment with a woman she’s only met a few times. But she feels a lot safer here, and that’s all that matters.</p><p>All of a sudden, Zulema’s voice sounds right behind her. "<em>Oye, Maca</em>.” </p><p>She turns around to face the other woman who’s standing a few feet away from her. </p><p>
  <em>“Sí?”</em>
</p><p>“Do you need to … talk, or anything? About tonight?” Zulema asks. She motions towards the couch. “You can sit down if you want.” </p><p>Macarena shifts her weight to her left foot and back to her right. “No, I …. I think I’d rather be alone. Maybe tomorrow.” </p><p>Zulema ignores the sting in her chest at the blonde’s words. But this is not about her, she reminds herself, this is about Macarena. She obviously needs some space. </p><p>“Of course,” the brunette replies. “I’ll show you the bedroom.” </p><p>In between the kitchen and the living room, across from the door through which they came in, there’s another door. Zulema holds it open for Maca and the blonde follows her into another hallway, where she notices one door on her left and one a little further on her right. Zulema opens the one on the left. </p><p>“This is the guest room.” </p><p>Macarena follows the brunette inside. Perfectly in line with the rest of the apartment, this room has grey walls and a black bed frame with covers in the same dark color. Next to the bed, there’s a white nightstand with a small lamp on it and a chair in the corner. The room has everything a guest would need, and Macarena is in awe of the beauty of this entire apartment. </p><p>Zulema opens another door inside the room that Macarena hadn’t even noticed. </p><p>“Here’s the ensuite. You won’t have to share a bathroom with me.” </p><p>Macarena doesn’t even look - she’ll find out what the ensuite has to offer later - and turns to the brunette.</p><p>“Thank you, Zulema. Really.” </p><p>The older woman shrugs and manages a smile as a response, before she turns and heads for the door. All of this is confusing her.</p><p>“I’ll bring you some clothes in a minute.” </p><p>And then, Macarena is left to herself. </p><p>She sits down on the edge of the bed, still a little shaken, but not entirely because of what happened earlier. The reality is just starting to dawn on her, and she can’t believe Zulema did all of this for her. Even though the brunette said they aren't going to work out, her actions prove otherwise. Macarena firmly believes they <em> could </em>work out, despite Zulema being so closed off and unable to trust people. She wants to prove her wrong.</p><p>Maca gets up again and turns away from the door before pulling Zulema’s sweatshirt over her head, revealing her torn nightgown. That one quickly comes off as well and she drops it onto the bed, now left in nothing but her underwear. </p><p>Meanwhile in the master bedroom, Zulema pulls her phone from her pocket and throws it onto her bed from a distance. She presses a button next to the door and the curtains close automatically while she searches her drawers for something Macarena can wear. The blonde already has a sweatshirt to sleep in, so she’ll just need some clothes for the next morning. They can figure everything else out tomorrow.</p><p>Zulema settles on a black longsleeve and her only pair of dark blue jeans, which she’s never worn. The outfit is not as feminine as Macarena would probably like, but it’ll have to do for now. She grabs a black bra and matching underwear and finally, a pair of socks, before making her way back to the guest room with the pile of clothes in her hands. </p><p>Rounding the corner back into the hallway, the brunette finds her way back towards the open door of the guest room. However, she’s not prepared for the sight that greets her. </p><p>The few times Zulema has seen the blonde’s body nearly or completely naked, there was pure lust and desire coursing through her veins. All she wanted back then was to touch her. This time, Macarena is standing with her bare back towards the door, wearing nothing more than a pair of panties. Her blonde curls spill over her shoulders, doing their best to cover up some light bruises, and all Zulema wants right now is to hold her and protect her from everyone and everything. There is no lust this time. No desire. There is something else though, somewhere deep inside and unreachable. </p><p>Or maybe she’s just pushing it away.  </p><p>“Maca,” Zulema says, soft enough to not startle the blonde. “I brought clothes.” </p><p>The younger woman looks over her shoulder and back to the bed again, already reaching for Zulema’s sweatshirt. She quickly pulls it over her head and once clothed, turns her full body towards the older woman. “<em>Gracias,</em>” she takes the clothes from Zulema and puts them on the chair in the corner. The brunette remains in the door opening, unsure of what to do. She doesn’t want to leave Macarena on her own. Not yet. She points at the blonde’s cheek.</p><p>“You still have some blood there.” </p><p>Maca reaches up and runs her own finger over the small cut on her cheekbone, flinching when it stings. She drops her hand again. “I’ll look at it.” </p><p>Zulema sighs. “Alright,” she replies. “There’s a toothbrush and soap and everything in the bathroom.” </p><p>They share a few more seconds of silence. Wondering if they’re thinking the same thing, feeling the same unease between them. Before this, they only saw each other in Libertad. They had their own lives on the outside of that club, and although neither of those lives were perfectly fine, they weren’t <em> together </em>like this. In the same house, just by themselves. </p><p>Macarena takes a hesitant step forward, towards the brunette, and notices that Zulema rather leans towards her than away. She sees this as her sign and immediately closes the remaining distance between them to wrap her arms around the taller woman, once again burying her face in her shirt. Zulema feels the blonde relax in her arms and unconsciously does the same, resting her chin on top of Maca’s head. </p><p>They’ve hugged, they’ve kissed, they’ve <em> fucked. </em> Yet, everything feels completely different right now. It’s almost as if they’re meeting each other for the first time. The nerves, the uneasiness. </p><p>After a few moments, Zulema feels the younger woman shift in her arms and she lets go, thinking Macarena wants to pull away. The blonde does indeed pull away, but not completely. Her gaze shifts from Zulema’s eyes down to her lips and before the brunette knows it, Macarena is kissing her. </p><p>Zulema panics.</p><p>This isn’t happening in the safety of Libertad<em>. </em> This is not just a short kiss or a quick fuck and being able to deny everything afterwards because you’re in a club and everything means nothing anyways. This is not Libertad at all<em>; </em> this is her own apartment, a safe space Zulema has created for herself, and now Maca is right here with her. <em> Kissing her. </em></p><p>The blonde senses the other woman’s hesitation and briefly breaks their kiss.</p><p>“Please,” she breathes against parted lips. “Help me forget.” </p><p>“Maca,” the brunette replies. Her voice is soft, contradicting her confused expression. “We shouldn’t. Not right now.”</p><p>The younger woman finds deep green eyes. She knows that Zulema is right, but the undeniable attraction towards each other isn’t reserved exclusively for Libertad<em>. </em>Macarena feels the irresistible need to be close to the woman in front of her, but she can also feel Zulema struggling with her emotions. So she pulls back.</p><p>“<em>Tienes razón,</em>” Maca answers. “I’m sorry.”  </p><p>“I didn’t mean-”</p><p>“No, no,” the blonde pulls away and takes a step backwards. “You’re right. And I wanted to be alone anyways.” </p><p>Well, at least it’s not just Zulema contradicting herself. </p><p>“Okay,” Zulema motions towards the hallway. “I’m going to bed, then.”</p><p>Macarena manages a smile. “Yeah. Me too.” </p><p>A few seconds of silence. The brunette breaks it. “Alright. <em> Buenas,</em>” she says, also breaking eye contact with the blonde when she turns away and makes her way back to her own room. Macarena’s voice carries into the hallway.</p><p>“Goodnight.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’s just hovering on the brink of unconsciousness. Not fully asleep, but Zulema isn’t awake either. Until three knocks on her bedroom door pull her from her light state of slumber.</p><p>The brunette rubs her eyes and sits up a little, leaning on her elbows. </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>The door slowly creaks open and reveals a teary-eyed blonde, still in Zulema’s sweatshirt. She takes two steps forward, but keeps her hand on the door knob, as if she’s unsure about doing this. She feels like she shouldn’t be here.</p><p>“What is it?” Zulema asks, and immediately scolds herself for asking such a stupid question. As if it could be something else than Miguel. </p><p>“I can’t be alone,” Maca whispers, and her voice trembles a little. “I keep seeing his face every time I close my eyes and I just …,” she trails off. “I can’t sleep on my own.” </p><p>Zulema feels the two sides of her brain start to fight each other immediately. The rational side is strong, as always. </p><p>
  <em> You’ve already let her into your house, and now you’re going to let her into your room? Into your bed?  </em>
</p><p>But her feelings are strong now, too. </p><p>
  <em> Look at her. Asking this isn’t easy for her. Besides, you know you feel something for her, so why not let her stay with you?  </em>
</p><p>But the rational side of her brain isn’t done just yet. </p><p>
  <em> Exactly. Let her stay with you, make those feelings even stronger. You didn’t want to get attached, remember?  </em>
</p><p>The emotional side comes back to counterargue once again. </p><p>
  <em> It’s already too late for that. Let her in. She’s not dangerous, just scared. Like you.  </em>
</p><p>Her emotional side wins.</p><p>“You can stay here,” Zulema offers, shifting over to the right side of the bed. “There’s space.” </p><p>Macarena looks somewhat surprised at that response, but the emotion is quickly replaced by relief. She makes her way to the left side of the bed and slides under the covers, shivering when her bare legs come into contact with the cold sheets. Zulema may have a king-size bed, but she usually sleeps on the right side or somewhat towards the middle and never uses up the full space, so the sheets on the left side are still cold. </p><p>They’re now both laying on their backs with their eyes fixated on the ceiling. Macarena remembers them in the exact same position a few weeks ago, after they’d just kissed for the first time.</p><p>How things have changed. </p><p>“I’m sorry for doing this to you,” she breaks the silence. Her voice doesn’t tremble anymore. “I know you’d rather not have someone here.”</p><p>Zulema doesn’t look at Maca. She finds it’s easier that way.</p><p>“What makes you think that?” </p><p>Macarena turns her head to look at the brunette and keeps her eyes trained on her face, even when Zulema doesn’t look back.</p><p>“You’re different. Quiet.”</p><p>
  <em> So Maca has noticed. She’s more observant than Zulema thought she was.  </em>
</p><p>“I just don’t know,” the brunette replies after a while. </p><p>“Don’t know what?” </p><p>“How to feel.” </p><p>The blonde rolls over to her right side. It makes it easier to look at the woman next to her and the muscles in her neck definitely appreciate the change of position. </p><p>“You don’t have to. Just … let things be.” </p><p>Zulema scoffs. “Easier said than done.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Maca replies, her voice soft. “I know.” </p><p>Silence falls between them again. Macarena feels better now she’s in the brunette’s room, safely tucked into bed next to her, and she knows that she doesn’t want anything else ever again. She makes a promise to herself to act normal tomorrow and see if that changes anything. No more kissing. Not when Zulema clearly isn’t ready. </p><p>Maca closes her eyes and focuses on the other woman’s breathing to take her mind off things. Zulema is quiet and sighs a few times, until - it must be at least fifteen minutes later - Macarena is pretty sure the woman next to her is asleep. She waits a few more minutes just to be safe, before opening her eyes again and looking at Zulema. </p><p>The room is not completely dark; a full moon gives the bedroom a soft glow, and Maca can easily make out the brunette’s features. She hasn't moved from her position on her back, and with Macarena on her side, the blonde thinks about how easy it would be to just reach out and touch her face. </p><p>By looking at the brunette’s jawline, she’s reminded of the small cut on her own cheek, and that almost sends her into a downward spiral again. Miguel standing in front of her. <em> You’re weak. </em> But then the relief when she heard those three knocks on the door and the voice that followed. Zulema standing in front of her. <em> I’m taking you home. </em></p><p>Macarena desperately wants some kind of physical contact right now. A reassuring arm around her, a small touch. So she looks for it.</p><p>Shifting a little closer towards the warm body next to her, Macarena reaches out with her left hand and carefully rests it on Zulema’s stomach. It feels like a safe middle ground between not touching her at all and wrapping a full arm around her. She waits for some kind of response that’ll most likely be disapproval or uneasiness, but the brunette doesn’t move and Macarena is convinced she must really be asleep. </p><p>
  <em> Except she isn’t.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema was lying with her eyes closed and trying to relax, but now she's suddenly wide awake. She tries very hard to keep her breathing under control when she feels the blonde’s hand rest on her stomach and eventually grab hold of her shirt. Then, she feels her shift a little closer until their bodies are almost touching. </p><p>Macarena’s scent is all around her and despite the nervousness, the brunette feels her body relax instead of tense up. And even while she’s sure there’s no way she can fall asleep like this, it turns out she can’t even listen to Macarena’s breathing for more than a minute before slipping into unconsciousness. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next morning, Macarena wakes up in a room she doesn't recognize. It's definitely not hers, and she's disoriented for a second. She rolls over and rubs the sleep from her eyes, while the events from last night slowly come back to her. </p><p>Zulema.</p><p>She turns her head and finds Zulema’s side of the bed empty. The brunette is gone. </p><p>Maca lifts her arms above her head and stretches, feeling her body slowly wake up from head to toe, before she swings her legs over the side of the bed and her bare feet find the cold floor. She quickly makes her way over to the door and into the hallway. “Zulema?” </p><p>No response. Maca takes a few more steps. </p><p>“Zulema?” </p><p>Then, from the living room. </p><p>“Here.” </p><p>The brunette sits on the couch, immersed in a book, and looks up when the blonde makes her way into the living room. Her blonde curls are tousled and her eyes are sleepy, but she still looks beautiful. Not that Zulema would ever say that out loud. </p><p>“Morning,” she says instead.</p><p>“Thanks for letting me sleep,” the blonde replies. “I really needed that.” </p><p>The brunette manages a smile. “Yeah, I figured.” And after a few seconds, she adds. “Not that I’d be able to wake you up anyway. I took a shower in my ensuite, opened a drawer next to your head and even dropped my phone onto the floor. You didn’t move an inch.”</p><p>It’s more than Zulema has said to her in the past twelve hours, and Macarena could burst with happiness.</p><p>Maybe the brunette is really trying.</p><p>Zulema, on the other hand, watches as Macarena laughs at the words. The sound resonates in her chest and makes her heart skip a beat. </p><p>“Sounds about right. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper,” Maca replies, a smile still playing on her lips. She motions towards the hallway. “I think I’m going to take a quick shower, if that’s alright.” </p><p>They stare at each other for a few seconds and there’s already less awkwardness between them compared to yesterday. It feels better.</p><p>Zulema nods in response to Maca’s statement and watches as the blonde disappears into the hallway again. She has already gone back to reading when her phone suddenly vibrates with a text. <em> Saray Vargas</em>, it reads.</p><p>
  <em> Zule, are you up? I’m almost at your place. </em>
</p><p>Fuck. Everything about this situation has made Zulema forget that her best friend still comes over every morning to check up on her. She unlocks her phone and thinks about a response. If Macarena takes her time showering, she should be gone for at least twenty minutes. But of course Saray would hear the sound of the shower running, she realizes. Telling Saray to go back home doesn’t work either, because her best friend would know something is up. It seems like an encounter between Saray and Macarena is inevitable, and Zulema starts typing her response. </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, I’m up. Text me when you’re here. </em>
</p><p>That text comes seven minutes later, and eight minutes later the tall brunette is wrapping her up in an embrace. “<em>Buenas</em>. How are you, <em> hermana?”</em> </p><p>“Fine,” Zulema replies. “Coffee?” </p><p>“Nah, I’m good for now,” Saray says. She makes her way over to the couch and sits down next to the spot where Zulema always sits. The older woman joins her, already knowing what her best friend’s next question will be.</p><p>She’s right.</p><p>“How did things go with <em> la rubia?” </em></p><p>Zulema looks at Saray and away again. The younger woman eyes her suspiciously. "What is it, Zule? You didn't kill the guy, did you? I told you not to do it." </p><p>“I didn’t kill anyone,” the older woman replies immediately. “It’s just that …,” she takes a breath, not ready to say this. “Maca is here. I took her home with me.” </p><p>Saray’s mouth falls open.</p><p>“Macarena? Here?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Zulema replies. “She’s taking a shower in the guest room.” </p><p>Saray is so surprised by this entire situation that she can’t even think of a response. And this makes Zulema uncomfortable again. “Come on, don’t act like this is such a big deal,” she says. “We used to take women home all the time.” </p><p>“That was years ago, Zule,” the <em> gitana </em>replies. “I wasn’t even with Maya yet. And you only took those women home because you needed to be in charge of the situation. When was the last time you let someone sleep over without fucking them?”</p><p>“I let you stay over all the time,” the brunette defends.</p><p>Saray laughs. “Not counting me, of course.”</p><p>Zulema sighs. They both know the answer.</p><p>
  <em> Never.  </em>
</p><p>“Can you just … not make a big deal out of this? I don’t know what’s going on either,” Zulema sounds annoyed, and this is Saray’s cue to stop. </p><p>“Alright,” she replies. “How’s Maca doing?” </p><p>Before the older woman can respond to that question, a voice sounds from the hallway, answering the question for herself. </p><p>“Maca is fine.”</p><p>Both women on the couch turn towards the location of the voice, spotting the blonde at the same time. She’s wearing the outfit Zulema gave her yesterday, and the brunette can’t help but think about how good she looks. </p><p>“It’s rude to talk about your guests when they’re in the same room,” Macarena adds, while she walks into the living room and puts her wet hair up into a bun.<br/><br/>“It’s rude to listen in on conversations,” Zulema counters. </p><p>This banter between them feels casual, normal almost. Once again, a lot better than yesterday. Maybe they just need some time, Zulema realizes, and they can go back to what they were in Libertad<em>.  </em></p><p>Macarena stops in front of the couch and holds out her hand to Saray. “Hi. I’m Macarena, but I think you already know that.” </p><p>Saray shakes the outstretched hand with a smile. “Yeah. I’m Zule’s best friend, we tell each other everything. Saray, by the way.” </p><p>Zulema quietly watches the interaction between her best friend and the blonde. It’s strange to have them together like this. Saray, a woman with whom she’s spent years of her life already and Macarena, a woman who she’s met just two months ago. Two completely different parts of her life now together in the same room.</p><p>The blonde turns to Zulema. “Have you eaten already?” </p><p>Zulema shakes her head. “No. But there’s food in the fridge,” she motions towards the kitchen, “take whatever you want.” </p><p>Macarena is already on her way. “Do you want anything?” she calls over her shoulder. “Or you, Saray?” </p><p>“Saray was just leaving,” Zulema interrupts, throwing a look at her best friend. “Weren’t you?” </p><p>The <em> gitana </em>gets the message and winks at the older woman. “Sure.” And then, when Macarena isn’t looking, “You chose the right one, Zule. She’s hot.” </p><p>“I can still hear you, you know,” it immediately sounds from the kitchen. Both women laugh before getting up from the couch, and Zulema gives her best friend a gentle shove towards the front door. “Go<em>.</em>” </p><p>“Alright, I’m going,” Saray complies. Turning to face the older woman, she whispers “Maca feels surprisingly safe with you, Zule." Her voice is quiet enough to make sure Macarena <em> really </em>can’t hear her this time. “After the situation she’s just gotten out of.” </p><p>Zulema just shrugs in response. She knows. Macarena has always felt safe with her, and despite her own confused feelings, maybe she secretly feels safe with the blonde too.</p><p>She follows Saray into the kitchen, because the brunette wants to say goodbye to Macarena. </p><p>“<em>Oye</em>, <em>rubia,</em>” Saray starts, resting her hands on the kitchen counter next to where Macarena is pouring orange juice into a glass. “I may look nice, but if you hurt Zulema, you’ll get in trouble with me.” </p><p>“Saray,” Zulema warns. But the younger woman has no intention of stopping. </p><p>“I mean it. Think twice before you say something. A fight with Zulema is a fight with me,” she says. But then, her expression clears. “Other than that, have fun with her. I bet she knows just how to handle you.” </p><p>They all know what Saray is implying, and Zulema really isn’t having it right now.</p><p>“Vargas,” the brunette hisses. “Out. Now.”</p><p>Her best friend pushes away from the counter and places a quick kiss on Zulema’s cheek before heading for the front door.<em> "Adios!"</em></p><p>When the door falls closed behind her, Maca and Zulema look at each other. There’s two, three seconds of silence before they both start laughing; Macarena because of the situation, Zulema because Macarena is laughing. </p><p>“Don’t listen to her,” the brunette says eventually, rounding the counter until she’s standing next to Macarena. “She’s just protective.” </p><p>“It’s fine,” the blonde replies immediately. She holds the bottle of orange juice up. “Do you want this too?”</p><p>When Zulema nods, Maca takes another glass from the cabinet where she’s just found her own. “Besides,” the blonde starts, pouring the juice into it, “Saray wasn't wrong. You sure know how to handle me.” </p><p>The brunette is just shuffling through the food in her fridge, but turns around to face the younger woman at those words. Macarena looks at her with sparkling eyes, and Zulema can't help but give in. She decides to follow Maca's advice from last night. <em> Just let things be. </em></p><p>“I do, don’t I?” she replies. "You haven't made it too difficult for me though." </p><p>Macarena bites her lip, which tells Zulema that she didn’t expect the brunette to play along. It feels good to catch her off guard like this. </p><p>Zulema turns back to the fridge again, breaking the tension. It feels reassuring to know it’s still there, but she knows they shouldn’t act on it. Not right now. Not when they have a thousand things left to talk about. </p><p>“So, what do you want for breakfast?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. problems and solutions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>a rollercoaster. that's what this chapter is.</p><p>and it's apparently a rollercoaster of nearly FIVE THOUSAND words as well, so, you're welcome. 😂</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They find that they work well together. For now, at least. Macarena gets the plates and drinks and sets everything down on the table in the living room, while Zulema takes care of the food. Within ten minutes, they’ve made a full breakfast and find themselves on the couch, talking about everything and nothing and it feels surprisingly normal. Zulema looks relaxed and Macarena feels safe. </p><p>Halfway through their conversation about night clubs in Madrid, the brunette’s phone rings and she walks into the hallway to answer it, leaving Macarena to herself in the living room. She pulls her knees up to her chest and looks out the window, appreciating the view of Madrid while she listens to the brunette speak to whoever’s on the phone.</p><p>“Yeah?” She hears her say. “What’s up?” </p><p>In the hallway, Zulema is casually leaning her back against the wall, her feet crossed at the ankles. </p><p>“Zulema,” the brunette hears on the other side of the line. “I have bad news.”</p><p>She’s immediately alert. It’s Pablo, her direct connection to Ramirez.  </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“One of your men got killed last night.”</p><p>She nearly drops the phone. </p><p>“What the fuck are you saying?” </p><p>“Ramirez said it was the one who was selling in his district,” Pablo states. “And because you couldn’t offer him a plausible solution to this problem, he took matters into his own hands.” </p><p>“A plausible solution,” Zulema laughs sarcastically. “So stabbing me to death would’ve been a plausible solution?” </p><p>“I don’t know what he wants,” Pablo says. “But this is what happened, and I’m just calling you to tell you. Besides, you killed one of his.”</p><p>Zulema’s free hand balls into a fist. Her whole body is tense and she wants to scream at something or someone. “Let me speak to him,” she replies. Her voice shakes with anger. “Is he with you right now?”</p><p>Pablo’s reply is immediate. “No. But he told me he wants to meet you in person.” </p><p>“He can go to hell,” she growls. “He wanted to kill me back there, do you really think I want to meet up with him again? I don’t trust that guy with my life. Tell him that.” </p><p>She disconnects and lets her head fall back against the wall. </p><p>From the living room, Macarena is still trying to listen to what's going on. But it has gone quiet now, and the sound of footsteps announces Zulema’s return.</p><p>When the brunette finds her way back into the living room, Macarena tries to read her expression and finds that she looks flushed, like she’s getting over her anger. But her face dissolves into gentle concern when she sees the blonde again, and Maca can’t help but wonder if this change in her face happens more often, when she’s not looking. She wonders if she has the power to take the fight and anger out of this woman, although that fight and anger is exactly what saved her life. </p><p>She wonders how it would feel to spend the rest of their lives together. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Maca tries. </p><p>The response doesn’t tell her much. “I’m fine,” Zulema mumbles. Her phone disappears into her pocket again. “I have to brush my teeth and call Saray for a second. You can stay here if you want.” </p><p>“Alright,” Maca says. She reaches into her jeans pocket - or rather, Zulema’s - for her own phone while the brunette disappears into the other hallway. The screen of her phone lights up. </p><p>
  <em> Seven missed calls.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fifteen new messages. </em>
</p><p>Macarena unlocks her phone with her thumb and already knows that everything is from Miguel. She’s not ready to face this, but she opens the messages anyway. </p><p>The first two are in capitals. Angry. </p><p><em> “WHAT THE FUCK, MACA?”<br/></em> <em>“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”</em></p><p>He leaves the capitals for now. The tone is still the same.</p><p><em> “Who was that woman? Probably some whore from your job, wasn’t it?” <br/></em> <em>“I bet she doesn’t believe you anyway. No one believes you. You’re a fucking liar.” </em></p><p>Macarena takes a shaky breath and scrolls further down. </p><p><em> “Where the fuck are you?” </em> <em><br/></em> <em> “Don’t think I won’t find you.”  </em></p><p>She looks away from her phone, tears already forming in her eyes. The fear is back immediately and it really feels as if he could be here any second, knocking on Zulema’s door. She skips through the rest of the texts and they become less angry and more about himself.</p><p><em>“I’ve supported you for years. This is how you leave me?”<br/>“I know I should’ve treated you better, Maca. I’m sorry.”<br/></em> <em>“You’ll come back, right? We belong together.”</em></p><p>Maca’s breakdown was bound to happen at some point, but these texts are the final straw. And of course it has to happen now, right when Zulema isn’t here. Macarena throws her phone to the other side of the couch and buries her face in her hands, leaning over to rest her elbows on her knees. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and although she’s learned how to cry in silence, it doesn’t mean the pain isn’t absolutely gut-wrenching. </p><p>That’s how Zulema finds her ten minutes later. On the couch, with her head in her hands and her body shaking. She stands a few feet away at first, debating what to do, but it doesn’t take many seconds for her to make her way over to the couch.</p><p>“Maca.”</p><p>The blonde startles when she feels a body sit down next to her, <em> against </em>her almost, with their thighs touching. Zulema doesn’t even have to ask what’s going on. </p><p>“He texted me," Maca mumbles. She points towards her right, but doesn’t lift her head. </p><p>Zulema looks in the direction of the pointed finger and finds the blonde’s phone on the couch, still unlocked. She picks it up and searches for the conversation with Miguel - he still has a blue heart behind his name and it absolutely infuriates her - before going through the same messages Maca read ten minutes ago. She’s just about to say something, when-</p><p>"Maybe I should go back to him."</p><p>Zulema puts the phone down next to her, facing the blonde.</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>Macarena sits up and turns her body towards the brunette, pulling one leg up onto the couch. Her eyes are still teary. "He's right. We've been together for nearly four years. I can't just leave him like this."</p><p>Zulema frowns. "Yes, you can."</p><p>"It's unfair.”</p><p>"Abusing you is fair?"</p><p>At that, Macarena goes quiet.</p><p>"I'm not letting you go back to that asshole," Zulema continues. She wants to reach out and take Macarena's hands in hers. Of course she doesn't. </p><p>“He wasn’t like that all the time,” the blonde whispers in response. “We had good times together. I can’t just let him go like this.”</p><p>“He hurt you,” Zulema replies. “You’re not going back there.”</p><p>The blonde takes a shaky breath. Deep down she knows Zulema is right, but she just doesn’t want to give in.</p><p>"I can't stay here forever," she tries. </p><p><em> Why not, </em>Zulema wants to say.</p><p>"You can stay until we've found you something else," she says instead. </p><p>All of a sudden, Macarena pushes herself up from the couch and walks towards the windows, running one hand through her blonde locks. “It’s too much trouble. I didn’t know what I was saying when I asked you to help me,” she says, turning back to face the brunette who’s still sitting on the couch. “It was just a moment of weakness, and I don’t want to bother you. You have your own problems. I just heard you talk on the phone. You don’t need me as another one.”</p><p>Zulema has managed to stay relatively quiet until now, but she’s really had it with the blonde’s bullshit. </p><p>“Sit down,” she motions towards the empty spot next to her on the couch. “And shut up.” </p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Sit.” </p><p>Macarena lets out an exasperated sigh, but listens to the brunette anyway. She takes the few steps back to the couch and sits down next to her again, although it really wasn’t the plan to do this right now. She’d wanted to postpone any sort of talk between them until a later time, but Miguel’s texts and her breakdown - she<em> hates </em> herself for letting go like that - leave them no other choice. </p><p>“What?” she asks, facing the brunette. </p><p>“My problems,” Zulema points to her own chest, “are my problems.” She turns her wrist and now points her finger at Maca. “You don’t get to decide if you’re a problem or not. I agreed to help you. This one's on me.”</p><p>Zulema sees the doubt in the younger woman’s eyes after her answer, and she can’t place it. First, Macarena asked her to protect her and help her. She needed to have her close when they had sex, and now even when they <em>don’t</em>, of which last night is a clear example. So, why the uncertainty? Why the idea of going back to Miguel? She decides to confront the younger woman; they’re having this talk anyway, so she might just as well go for it. </p><p>“What happened to you being head over heels in love with me, <em> rubia?</em>” </p><p>Macarena is caught off guard by Zulema being so forward. Her eyes go wide and she needs a few seconds to respond, and this already says enough.</p><p>“I- I’m not in love with you.” </p><p>The brunette laughs. “You should really get better at hiding it then.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” </p><p>“Kissing me here, in my house?” Zulema replies. “Holding onto me when you think I’m already sleeping? Please.”</p><p>Macarena freezes. <em> Zulema wasn’t asleep? </em> Her mind wanders back to last night, and how safe she felt in bed with the other woman. But she doesn’t want to admit that, so she decides to attack the other woman instead of defending herself. </p><p>“What about you, Zulema? Nothing about this makes sense for you either. If you were awake, as you’re saying, then why did you allow me to hold onto you?” </p><p>
  <em> Touché.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema purses her lips instead of answering. Maca takes this silence as her moment to make things even more complicated. </p><p>“Why did you even take me home with you?” </p><p>This wasn’t meant to happen. Zulema wanted to confront Maca, and now the blonde is suddenly changing the topic to <em> her </em> feelings. This is enough. The brunette gets up from the couch with the intention of walking away from all of this, but Maca’s hand closes around her wrist and pulls her back down again. “No,” the blonde says. “I want to know.”</p><p>Zulema pulls her arm away, or at least tries to, but Maca’s grip is too strong.</p><p>“Let go,” she growls, using her free hand to pry the blonde’s fingers from her wrist. “I mean it, Maca.”</p><p>“Not until you tell me why you’re allowing me to be here. To hold you, even.” </p><p>“I’m trying, okay! I’m fucking trying!”</p><p>The sudden pain in Zulema’s voice causes Maca to let go of her immediately, and she's already preparing herself for the brunette to leave. But to her surprise, Zulema doesn’t get up.</p><p>“I’m trying,” the older woman repeats, softer this time. “to let myself feel something again. But it’s all for nothing, it seems, because you just want to go back to Miguel.” </p><p>Macarena’s heart drops. </p><p><em> Look what you’ve done</em>, her mind tells her. </p><p>”I don’t want to go back to him,” she says quietly. “It’s just that he always makes me feel guilty, and I’m … having trouble processing. This happened <em> yesterday, </em>Zulema. Don’t expect me to be over it already.” </p><p>Zulema doesn’t answer. Her eyes are fixated on the floor. </p><p>She tenses and then shivers, when Macarena’s arm finds its way around her waist. “Look at me,” the blonde tries, gently pulling on the body next to her.</p><p>It takes a few seconds, but eventually Zulema lifts her head and turns towards the blonde. </p><p>Maca takes a breath. “I want to stay with you. And I really mean that.” </p><p>Zulema’s eyes are focused on hers, trying to look for anything that could point to uncertainty or the blonde not being absolutely honest with her right now. </p><p>She doesn’t find anything. </p><p>Macarena watches as Zulema’s eyes scan her face, until they finally focus on her lips. She tries to stay very still and waits, until the brunette’s eyes flicker up again and meet hers, almost as if she’s asking for permission. Not that she needs it, though. Macarena has wanted her since the beginning.</p><p>Nevertheless, the blonde lets her know by leaning in a little; enough to make her intentions clear, but not enough to make the final decision. She leaves that to Zulema. </p><p>The older woman hesitates, obviously drawn to the blonde in front of her, but also still scared of giving in. She finds Macarena’s eyes again and the other woman is still waiting, watching her closely, not making the decision for her. </p><p>Zulema loves her for that. </p><p>The fact that Maca waits for her, gives her the time to make the decision, makes that she eventually leans in. And she doesn’t miss how Macarena’s breathing picks up immediately; she smiles a little, pleased to have such an effect on her. </p><p>Their lips meet in the middle and they both sigh at the contact. Hands immediately come up to touch and hold onto whichever body part is closest. There’s nothing else but them, here on the couch in Zulema’s apartment, and it feels incredibly liberating.</p><p><em> Finally, </em>Macarena thinks. Every single word and movement she’s been able to draw from the older woman in these past few minutes feels like a small victory. Now the brunette’s lips are on hers and there’s nothing else she wants. </p><p>Nothing is rushed either; Zulema turns her body more to the side so she’s facing Macarena, and the blonde tangles one hand in the brunette’s shirt to pull her closer. Their position on the couch is not ideal, but the moment is perfect.</p><p>It’s when the brunette bites down on Maca’s bottom lip a little harder than she normally would that Macarena realizes she’s still tense. It’s also then that she remembers the phone call she overheard earlier, completely forgotten in the heat of the moment. Her hands come up and gently push against Zulema’s shoulders, urging her to turn and sit back against the couch, before she throws one leg over the brunette’s lap and sits down. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Zulema manages to ask between kisses, but she’s way too into it to really protest. Her hands come to rest on Maca’s waist just when the blonde breaks their kiss to trail her lips over Zulema’s jaw, down to her neck. “Kissing you,” she replies innocently, smiling against the warm skin when the brunette lets out a small gasp at the feeling of her tongue darting out to lick where her lips just kissed.</p><p>The blonde needs this; with every kiss she places on the brunette’s skin, Miguel disappears a little from her mind. </p><p>“Maca,” Zulema manages, her grip tightening on the blonde’s hips when she feels lips near her pulse point. “Don’t do this.” </p><p>The younger woman pulls back. “Why? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.” </p><p>Zulema puts one hand against the blonde’s clavicle, holding her back. </p><p>“That was different.”</p><p>“Different how?” Macarena asks.  </p><p>“That was because I needed it. And it was your job.” </p><p>The younger woman sits back a little. One finger comes up and slowly runs over Zulema’s lips, smiling when those lips part slightly. She runs the finger down Zulema’s neck, into the valley of her breasts. “It’s still my job. Don’t you need me now?” </p><p>Zulema bites her lip, fighting against the rush of arousal that runs through her body. It’s not easy, especially when Macarena pulls her shirt over her head to reveal a black bra - <em> Zulema’s </em>bra - and throws it on the floor behind her. </p><p>“Maca ….” </p><p>“If I was working right now, you would’ve come to see me,” the blonde states.</p><p>Her arms come up to wrap around the brunette’s neck, and they both know it’s true. </p><p>“But… you just said you needed time.” Zulema finds light green eyes with a silent question in them. “To process. Because you were right, you can’t be over this already.”</p><p>Macarena leans in again, close enough for their lips to almost touch again, but not yet. “We can process together.” She grabs Zulema’s hands, which have found their way back to her waist again after she got rid of her shirt, and slowly pushes them upwards over her bare skin. “Remind me why I chose you.”</p><p>Zulema manages to tear her eyes away from the bare skin long enough to look at the younger woman again, squinting her eyes. “Are you challenging me?”</p><p>The blonde bites her lip and a slight tilt of her head accompanies her answer. </p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>Zulema <em> wants </em> this. She <em>needs </em>this, because it'll make her forget about the trouble her fucking job brings. </p><p>But once again, they're in her own house. This is not Libertad. They would definitely be crossing some kind of invisible line she has drawn for herself. </p><p>Almost as if Macarena knows exactly what she’s thinking, she speaks up. </p><p>“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”</p><p>Their eyes meet again. Macarena continues.</p><p>“It helps you relax. And it helps me forget.”</p><p>The brunette temporarily loses the ability to think - and therefore to come up with other arguments for why they <em>definitely</em> <em>shouldn’t</em> do this - when Macarena pulls her closer and presses their lips together again.</p><p>But she does remember one thing.</p><p>
  <em> Not in my room. Not in my bed. I can’t do that. </em>
</p><p>“Guest room,” Zulema mumbles into their kiss. It’s a desperate attempt to keep the blonde out of her life. As if it’s not already too late.</p><p>Macarena doesn’t protest, and somehow manages to stand up and pull the older woman with her while their lips never leave each other. Although they have an infinite amount of time now, and not just thirty minutes, it feels like it’ll never be enough. </p><p>Zulema doesn’t give her time to walk slowly. Now she’s finally given into what she wants, she decides she wants Maca <em> right now. </em>Pushing the blonde backwards and kissing her forcefully, they stumble into the hallway. They kiss and lose clothing and kiss even more, until Zulema is left in her bra and underwear and Macarena has somehow lost her jeans. </p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” the blonde whispers once they’re in the guest room, sliding her hands down Zulema’s body until they come to rest on her waist.</p><p>“Yes,” the brunette replies, leaning in to kiss Maca’s neck. “But I’m not saying it means anything.”</p><p>Macarena’s reply is shaky. The lips on her neck are distracting her. “Alright,” she manages. </p><p>Zulema deliberately doesn’t pull away, because she knows full well what she’s doing to the blonde. “Yeah?” she bites down on the soft skin, probably hard enough to leave a mark. She doesn’t care anymore, and Maca doesn’t protest either. The only response she gives is a moan, and Zulema’s lips curl up in a smile. Her lips linger on her neck a little longer, before she pushes against Macarena’s chest with one hand, and the blonde takes the hint. </p><p>She lowers herself onto the soft black sheets and leans back on her elbows, staring up at the older woman who’s in her underwear now too. Fully in Zulema style, all black. <em> But she looks beautiful</em>, Macarena realizes once again. </p><p>“Move up,” Zulema’s voice breaks the silence. “Head on the pillow.”</p><p>The blonde scoots upwards with a smile on her face. “You make me sound like a pillow princess,” she counters.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Zulema replies while she finds her way onto the bed as well, hovering over the blonde. “Maybe you are.”</p><p>Macarena’s hands come up to wrap around the brunette’s body, pulling her down on top of her. “If you’d let me touch you, you can find out.” Her fingers slide under the straps of Zulema’s bra with the intention of taking it off, but the brunette immediately stops her by looking her in the eye and shaking her head. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?” Maca’s voice is softer now. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she repeats her words from earlier. They seem to be the wrong ones now, because Zulema suddenly pulls away and sits up. The blonde frowns, waiting for an explanation. </p><p>“You walk around in practically <em> nothing </em>in that club,” the brunette tells her. “Of course clothing doesn’t mean anything to you.”</p><p>Macarena can almost <em> see </em>Zulema pulling up her walls again, and her eyes visibly lose some of her affection and trust. She reaches for the brunette’s cheek and cups it, an apology already on the tip of her tongue, but something tells her that would only drive Zulema further away from her. So she decides to leave it at the touch, only for a few seconds, and then pulls back to take Zulema’s hands in hers and put them on her rib cage. There’s definitely more to this, but she doesn't want to start that conversation now. All she can do is distract the brunette and hope it’s enough. </p><p>“Touch me,” she says. “Please.” Her hands let go of Zulema’s, who keeps her hands right where Macarena put them. Until she feels the blonde wrap her arms around her neck and pull her back down again, so she needs to put one hand back on the mattress for support. </p><p>"You need this,” Macarena whispers, pressing a kiss to the brunette's bare shoulder. “And so do I.”</p><p>She looks up at the older woman, but Zulema is focused on pulling down Macarena's bra strap with her free hand. The blonde helps her by creating enough space for Zulema to reach behind her and undo the item of clothing, immediately tearing it off her body and throwing it somewhere to her left. Her right hand moves down to Maca’s underwear and pulls on it, her intentions clear. “Off,” she orders, and the blonde’s hands help her pull the fabric down her legs. </p><p>When she finally has the blonde naked beneath her, it feels better. She’s on top, in control, still half-dressed. Her attention first goes out to the skin of Maca’s neck and eventually, her collarbone and down to her breasts. She pulls one of her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.</p><p>“Oh <em> fuck,</em>” Macarena breathes, tangling her hands in raven hair. “More.” </p><p>The brunette is definitely aware of Macarena needs and her own. This needs to be fast, intense, <em> too much. </em>There shouldn’t be any room left for thoughts. But Zulema also realizes that they finally have an endless amount of time, and she’s torn between making the blonde wait and fucking her senseless right now. </p><p>She makes her way up the younger woman’s body and presses a few kisses to the skin of her neck before biting down on her ear lobe, drawing a gasp from Macarena.</p><p>“I want to take my time with you,” Zulema whispers. The feeling of nails immediately digging into her back at those words almost causes her to let out a small gasp herself. But she catches it just in time, and manages to continue. “Or do you want me to make you come first?”  </p><p>“Yes,” Maca’s response is immediate. “Now.” She turns her head, asking for a kiss. The brunette obeys to this request, but not to the answer to her question.</p><p>“Too bad. You don’t get to decide,” she replies. Pulling back to look at Maca, the older woman notices that her eyes are almost black with desire. The blonde, on the other hand, knows that begging won’t do her any good, so she just lies very still and watches as the brunette’s eyes go over every inch of her body, hands following quickly after. She squirms when Zulema crosses a tickly spot on her side and quickly reaches out to pull those hands away, laughing out loud. </p><p>The brunette watches her and can’t help but feel her heart skip a beat; Maca lying beneath her like this, blonde curls spilled over the pillow, laughing. The blonde notices that she has gone silent and finds her eyes to check if everything’s okay. It seems to be. </p><p>“When I said that we could work out together, I didn’t mean we had to start living together immediately,” Maca chuckles. “Or do <em> this, </em>for that matter.” </p><p>Zulema’s lips curl up into a smile, and she leans down on her arm to be able to kiss the blonde. </p><p>“You initiated.”</p><p>Maca kisses her back.</p><p>“You agreed.” </p><p>Zulema runs her free hand down Maca’s body. </p><p>“Shut up.” </p><p>Not that the blonde gets the chance to say anything else, though, because the brunette’s hand finds her center and touches her <em> right there</em>, causing Maca to let out a small gasp that turns into a moan when Zulema’s movements become more steady. </p><p>The older woman presses her lips against Maca’s again - now they can finally kiss when they’re fucking - and smiles as she moves two fingers further down.</p><p>“Feels like you won’t even need foreplay,” she whispers against Maca’s lips. “You’re soaked.” The blonde lets out a whine in response and thrusts her hips upwards. </p><p>
  <em> “Please.”   </em>
</p><p>Zulema leans back just enough to be able to look at the blonde’s face. She likes watching her, and she <em> loves </em> the noise Maca always makes right when she slips inside. Her lips part, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, and nine out of ten times the brunette’s name follows right behind it.</p><p>This time is no different.</p><p>
  <em>“Zulema!” </em>
</p><p>After all, the brunette ends up taking her time. She builds the blonde up, only to bring her down again, never really getting her to that final brink, because she likes playing with her body way too much for this to be over so soon. And now she finally has the time, she wants to take full advantage of it. </p><p>Macarena’s hands start pulling on her body more frequently, back, shoulders, anywhere she can reach. Her body starts writhing more and a whine leaves her lips from time to time, impatient.</p><p>It’s not until the brunette has brought her to the brink - <em> almost there </em>- for a third time, only to ease her fingers out again, that Macarena really starts begging.</p><p>“Please, Zulema.”</p><p>The older woman sits back; Macarena’s left leg in between the both of hers, her right hand now slowly teasing the blonde’s soaked center.</p><p>“Please what?” </p><p>“Touch me.” </p><p>The brunette grins. </p><p>“I am touching you.”</p><p>Macarena opens her eyes, unable to decide between loving or absolutely hating this.</p><p>“Touch me <em> properly.</em>”</p><p>Zulema pushes inside again, drawing a moan from the blonde in response. “So you’re saying this isn’t <em>properly?”</em> she mocks. Another moan from Macarena when the brunette continues moving, higher pitched now, because she’s too sensitive and so close that she can barely take this. </p><p>Then a desperate whimper when Zulema pulls out, <em> again</em>, leaving Macarena hanging on the brink of her orgasm for the fourth time now. The blonde whines and twists her hips, trying to get any form of relief. The sound is music to the brunette’s ears. </p><p>“Please. <em> Please. </em>Don’t stop.”</p><p>This is exactly what Zulema needed. Control.</p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>Macarena looks up at her, eyes dark with desire, and reaches out with one hand. “Come here first.” </p><p>Surprisingly, Zulema obeys and leans forward until their lips collide again. </p><p>“And now,” Macarena breathes in between kisses. “Please make me come.” </p><p>
  <em> Fuck yes. </em>
</p><p>The brunette curls her fingers upwards, finding Maca’s sweet spot again, while her thumb presses down on her clit.</p><p>“Come for me, <em>rubia</em>.” </p><p>The blonde’s breathing speeds up and her head falls back onto the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. And it doesn’t take long before she does exactly what Zulema tells her to. Macarena cries out and her body curls in on itself as she comes hard, burying her face in the crook of Zulema’s neck. </p><p>The brunette guides her through it but doesn’t stop, revelling in the feeling of Maca’s hands pulling on her everywhere, her moans in her ear and sometimes, when it’s possible and the blonde isn’t moaning, their lips on each other. </p><p>“No more,” Maca breathes, attempting to wriggle away from the fingers inside of her, but Zulema won’t let her. She continues moving, despite the fact that the blonde is still trembling from her first orgasm, and turns her head to softly bite on her ear lobe. </p><p>“Yes. One more.” </p><p>The brunette’s fingers continue their steady pace, and Zulema is now licking and biting and sucking on the blonde’s neck, leaving marks because <em> who even cares </em>and fucks her straight into a second orgasm. </p><p>It isn’t until one of Maca’s arms slides off her back and falls onto the mattress, completely spent, that she pulls out and sits up to give the blonde some space. However, Macarena protests immediately and pulls Zulema back on top of her, their bodies flush against each other while she’s still breathing hard. </p><p>“You were right,” she whispers when Zulema buries her face in the crook of Maca’s neck, completely relaxed. “I can’t go back to Miguel. I won't do it.” </p><p>A soft hum against the skin of her neck is the brunette’s response.</p><p>Maca’s arms tighten around her. “We just need some time,” she continues, “to figure this out. Both you and I.”</p><p>Another hum sounds right below her ear. </p><p>“Say something other than <em> hm</em>, please.” </p><p>It goes awfully quiet, and Macarena is afraid she’s said something wrong. She's afraid Zulema will reject her, and afraid that she'll say this is too soon or too much and she can't do it. </p><p>But then, with their bodies pressed together, Zulema mumbles her answer into her blonde curls.</p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>let me just tell you in advance: it's not going to be easy with these two living under one roof.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. old ways, new doors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>remember when I said this story was going to be sixteen chapters? well, due to my inability to keep things short, it'll probably be longer. 😂</p><p>alright, here we go.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Macarena learns that Zulema doesn’t say sorry, even when things are her fault. </p><p>Zulema learns that Macarena is just as stubborn as she is.</p><p>They can have civil conversations if they want to. They’re able to talk about TV shows, their favorite food and practical things.  </p><p>
  <em> “I’m going to call work to say that I won’t be in for a few days,” Macarena says on their first full day together. They’ve both just gotten dressed after their encounter in the guest room earlier.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette makes her way into the kitchen. “Alright,” she replies from there. “I won’t be home all the time, though.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Macarena gives her a smile. “That’s fine. You have a life too, you know. I just don’t think I can handle going back there and pretending nothing happened just yet. I need a few days.”  </em>
</p><p>Their first fight is on day two, about something stupid neither one of them remembers now. They fight again on day three, because Macarena wants to go back to her apartment to get some of her clothes and Zulema won’t let her. Even when the blonde tells her that Miguel won’t be there, because he works during the day. They end up yelling at each other from different sides of the room; Macarena yells how she wants her own clothing and her belongings because she never got the chance to take them, Zulema yells how it’s unsafe and she’s only getting herself back into trouble like this. </p><p>In the end, Macarena ends up going when Zulema is out doing god knows what, and they see each other when the blonde has already safely returned home with a suitcase filled with clothes. She says <em> I told you so </em>and Zulema doesn’t reply, but her face speaks for itself.</p><p>There aren't just fights between them; since that first night, they haven’t spent another night together. Zulema in a desperate attempt to keep the blonde away from her, and Macarena is just trying to prove that she can handle this by herself. Even though she wakes up drenched in sweat some nights, but she doesn’t talk about it. </p><p>It feels like they're drifting apart instead of growing together and both women can feel it happening, but neither one knows what to do. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema meets Saray in a cafe downtown under the guise of giving her an update on the whole Ramirez situation, but she just really wants to talk to her. She’d texted Saray right after Pablo’s call, and her best friend agreed to meet her as soon as possible. They now find themselves sitting opposite each other, a coffee in their hands, phones laying on the table. </p><p>“He killed one of ours, Saray,” Zulema tells her. “We’re just supposed to let this go?” </p><p>Saray takes a sip of her coffee and watches as the bartender walks past their table. “Maybe, yeah,” she replies. “It’s not safe to meet him again. You know that.” </p><p>Zulema sets her coffee down and folds her hands together. </p><p>“That's exactly what I told Pablo,” she replies. “Maybe I’ll just have to call Ramirez instead of meet up with him. But we have to do <em> something, </em> Saray, otherwise this’ll turn into a drug war.” </p><p>“You’re even now, right?” the younger woman offers. “You killed one of his, he killed one of ours. Just tell him that. It’s not like he has anything else on you.” </p><p>Zulema meets chocolate brown eyes, a soft look in her own. </p><p>“I like the way you think.”</p><p>This makes Saray laugh. She rests her chin in the palm of her hand, looking at her best friend with affection. “I know. That’s we’re best friends.<em>” </em> </p><p>It falls silent between the two of them. Zulema sips her own coffee and looks around the cafe, scanning the people sitting at the tables. Saray picks up her phone and replies to some text messages. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Zulema’s phone light up as well, and the brunette leans over the table to look at the screen. The younger woman watches as Zulema picks it up and a smile tugs at her lips, before she starts typing. </p><p>“Your girl?” Saray jokes. </p><p>Zulema lifts her head, throwing a ‘<em>careful, Vargas</em>’ look at her best friend. Saray shakes her head. “No, but really, Zule. How are things between you two?” </p><p>The older woman’s attention has already been captured by her phone again, and Saray decides to wait until she’s done typing. It only takes a few more seconds before Zulema puts her phone down on the table and reaches for her cup of coffee, almost empty now. </p><p>“She’s not my <em> girl</em>, Saray,” Zulema reponds, late, to the earlier question. “She just lives with me until we’ve found her something else.” </p><p>The younger woman laughs knowingly. “Sure. You should see the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her, too.”</p><p>“Saray,” Zulema warns, after taking her last sip of coffee. </p><p>“Do you like her?”</p><p>Zulema is about to get defensive, until she sees the look on her best friend's face. It’s not one of judgement or intolerance. She’s genuinely asking. As a friend. </p><p>“I just …,” the older woman starts. “You know I don’t trust anyone but you.” </p><p>Saray sets her mug down on the table, her coffee finished now too. </p><p>“But?” </p><p>“It’s different with her. She feels like someone I <em> could </em>trust, in the future. The other day, we were having- nevermind.” </p><p>Zulema looks away and blushes, something Saray rarely gets to see. The younger woman frowns, thinking hard, and eventually chuckles when she realizes what her best friend was going to say.</p><p>“Yes, you were having sex,” she finishes. “And?” </p><p>Zulema turns back, but doesn’t look Saray in the eye. “She wanted to, uh, take my clothes off,” the older woman continues, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, but she wants to tell Saray anyway, “and I stopped her. I didn’t want it, obviously. And she actually listened to me. Didn’t even ask why.” </p><p>Saray listens to her best friend. She’s never seen Zulema like this; the older woman seems almost shy when she’s talking about the blonde, but there’s also something more. Something like comfort, peace, affection. But she can’t place it just yet. </p><p>“I mean, I told you how she seems to feel at home with you,” Saray mentions. “After all that she’s been through.” </p><p>A waitress stops at their table and takes the empty coffee cups from their table. “Would you like something else?” She balances the cups on the tray while making eye contact with both women. “Coffee, cake?”</p><p>“I’ll have another coffee,” Zulema replies. Saray answers in the affirmative as well, and the waitress leaves them to themselves again. </p><p>“I just don’t want to mess this up.”</p><p>Zulema’s voice is soft, and the younger woman recognizes this as one of the few times that the older woman is completely opening up to her.</p><p>“I’m not one for relationships, Saray, you know that. It makes me feel trapped.” </p><p>“Maybe with her it’s different,” the younger woman replies. “Everything has been different so far. You just said so yourself.”</p><p>Zulema hums in response.</p><p>“The fact that you don’t want to mess this up means that you care about her,” Saray tells her. “And from the looks she’s giving you, I’d say <em> la rubia </em>is completely head over heels in love with you, Zule.” </p><p>The older woman chuckles. “Yeah. I pretty much called her out on that earlier this week.“</p><p>Zulema tells the story of their first night and morning together, interrupted halfway by the waitress putting freshly made cups of coffee on their table, and Saray watches as her best friend’s eyes are filled with affection when talking about the blonde.</p><p>When she’s finished, Saray leans forward with an unreadable expression. </p><p>"It almost sounds like you're ...," she starts. Zulema squints her eyes, pointing one finger at her best friend in warning. "Don't you dare."</p><p>"You're-“ </p><p>"No."</p><p>"In <em>love</em>," Saray finishes with a big grin on her face, ducking in order to avoid being smacked in the face by her best friend in the middle of the cafe. </p><p>“I’m never talking to you again, <em> puta</em>,” Zulema groans, leaning backwards against the chair. “I swear. Making fun of me<em>.</em>” She crosses one leg over the other and sighs, while Saray throws her head back in laughter. The older woman immediately forgives her when she sees that laugh. </p><p>They slip into a comfortable silence again, drinking their coffee and scrolling on their phone. Or Saray is scrolling, at least. Zulema is staring at a spot on the wall, thinking. After a few minutes, her voice interrupts the younger woman’s session on Instagram. </p><p>"I'm falling for her," Zulema confesses. "I can <em> feel </em> it happening, and it scares the hell out of me." </p><p>Saray looks at her.</p><p>“Just tell her that, Zule,” she replies. “Just tell her. You know she’ll listen.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema was really going to talk to the blonde. She was going to allow herself to let Macarena into her life, to let her come closer, both physically and mentally. Until the phone call happens. </p><p>Pablo had texted her when she just said goodbye to Saray. He told her Ramirez agreed to a phone call with her, and he asked if she was free right now. She’d said yes and made her way back to her car.  </p><p>Now, she’s sitting in the driver’s seat of her parked car, phone pressed to her ear. </p><p>“Zulema,” he greets her. The same as last time.</p><p>“Ramirez.”</p><p>He remains silent, and Zulema rolls her eyes. Is he going to be difficult already? </p><p>“What do you want me to say?” she asks, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice. “You killed one of mine, I killed one of yours. Let’s call it a tie and leave it at that, <em> vale?” </em></p><p>He chuckles. “Do you really think I’d let you go that easily? You started this by selling in my district. Then you killed one of my men, and then your friend tried to kill me.”</p><p>“.... So?” Zulema asks, completely unbothered. “It was self-defense.” </p><p>Ramirez clicks his tongue, and his next words cause the hairs on Zulema’s arms to stand up. </p><p>“I heard you have a girlfriend.”</p><p>She clenches her jaw and tries to think of a quick answer. Denial. That’s what she’s going for at first.</p><p>“Me? A girlfriend? Who the fuck told you that?” </p><p>His answer is too good for her to keep pretending. </p><p>“Her ex boyfriend.” </p><p>Zulema’s heart skips a beat. This was not what she expected, not at all. </p><p>“Miguel works for me, you know,” Ramirez adds. “And he’s not happy with the fact that Macarena left him. Then I found out it was <em> you</em>, out of all people, who <em>esta</em> <em>rubia </em> left him for.”</p><p>“Macarena left him because he abused her,” Zulema growls. “And you better fucking leave her out of this. This is between you and me.” </p><p>“Seems like you really like her, <em> no?”</em></p><p>Zulema can practically see the smile on his face. She hates it.</p><p>“So, the next time you pull a trick like that,” Ramirez finishes, “I won’t kill one of your men. Macarenawill be the victim.” </p><p>Fear runs through Zulema’s body, and her mind immediately starts yelling at her for making the decision to help Macarena and let her stay. </p><p>
  <em> You knew your job would bring trouble eventually. You knew it, yet you brought her into this. There’s no way the two of you can be together without putting her life on the line too.  </em>
</p><p>“She doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Zulema manages. </p><p>Ramirez has already disconnected. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Unlike what Saray told her to do, the brunette doesn’t talk to Macarena about her feelings. She doesn’t talk to Macarena at all, honestly. The phone call with Ramirez hasn’t left her mind, and she manages to distance herself from the blonde by not being home at all. It hurts, but it feels like the only option Zulema has. Maybe the connection they share will fade over time, and Macarena will leave. At least she’ll be safe then. </p><p>So the few days that Maca stays home from work, Zulema is mostly gone. The blonde wakes up to an empty house, left to wonder where Zulema is, and spends the day all by herself. The brunette usually comes back somewhere late in the afternoon, but she’s sometimes barely on time for dinner. Until Macarena decides she’s had enough. </p><p>Today, the brunette is home late, <em> again, </em>and Macarena is preparing something that should eventually look like pasta when she hears the front door close. </p><p>She watches from behind the kitchen counter as Zulema makes her way into the living room and drops her backpack on the floor next to the couch. </p><p>“Where have you been all day?” Macarena questions. </p><p>Zulema shrugs off her coat while answering. “I don’t have to tell you everything, do I?” </p><p>The blonde rolls her eyes. “Don’t be like this.” </p><p>“I already told you I’m not fun to be around,” Zulema replies, disappearing into the hallway to hang up her coat. She’s back within seconds. “I may be good in bed, but that’s everything I have to offer.” </p><p>“That’s not true,” Macarena counters. “You listened to me when I asked you for help. You <em> saved </em> me, because you care about me. And I like spending time with you. I don’t just like you because you’re good in bed.”  </p><p>Zulema presses a button on the remote and the TV switches on, playing the evening news. “We can’t be together,” she says, sitting down on the couch. "I've been telling you that from the start."</p><p>“But why not?” the blonde asks from the kitchen, while she adds some more sauce to her pasta. Cooking and trying to refrain from starting another fight with the brunette are two difficult things to manage at the same time. </p><p>“Because,” Zulema starts, “How do you think we can ever have a meaningful relationship if I continue to think you'll betray me one way or another? What if I can’t trust you?"</p><p>"How will you know if you don't give it a chance?" Macarena counters. </p><p>Zulema purses her lips and looks away, pretending to pay attention to the woman reading the news, but the blonde won’t have it. She turns off the stove and walks towards the brunette on the couch.</p><p>“I’m not going to give this a chance,” Zulema adds. And it hurts even more, she has to admit. It really hurts. Because whether she likes it or not, there’s something about the way Macarena’s face falls at her words that makes her want to take them back immediately. She doesn’t want to hurt the blonde. But if this is the only way to drive her away, to keep her safe, it’ll have to do. </p><p>"I'm so sick of your bullshit!” Macarena explodes. “Have you ever considered <em> my </em> feelings? Have you ever considered how all of this makes <em> me </em> feel? You kiss me, then you run away. You fuck me, and distance yourself again. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep living with hope, only for it to be destroyed again. I can't." </p><p>"Then leave."</p><p>There’s silence for a few seconds in which Macarena decides what to do. </p><p>“Fine. I’m leaving.” </p><p>Zulema keeps her eyes trained on the television until she hears the front door fall shut. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Macarena wanders through the city in her winter coat she retrieved from her old apartment earlier this week. It’s actually not too cold outside. Just enough for her mind to clear a little, and for the tip of her nose to turn red. She only realizes she hasn’t had dinner when her stomach rumbles, and she remembers the half-finished pasta on the stove at Zulema’s house. </p><p>Zulema.</p><p>Macarena just can’t wrap her head around the different sides Zulema seems to have; she’s so open with her, both physically and emotionally, when they’re in bed. But as soon as their moment together is over, Zulema pulls her walls up again. Just like she’s done tonight and has been doing this entire week. The blonde has no idea what’s going on, all she knows is that the brunette really didn’t lie when she said it was difficult to be with her.</p><p>It’s nearly midnight when she finds her way back. Zulema’s spare key weighs heavy in her hand as she enters the building, knowing that the brunette will still be awake. Zulema never sleeps early. Many nights, when Macarena is already tucked under the warm sheets in the guest room, the brunette is still in the living room on the couch. Reading, texting, or writing things - god knows what - on random pieces of paper. </p><p>Tonight is no different. When the blonde opens the front door, the lights are still on and there’s music playing. </p><p>She doesn’t say a thing; she hangs up her coat and takes off her shoes, and it seems Zulema isn't going to greet her either. It’s not until she walks into the living room that she knows the reason for this. </p><p>Macarena finds the brunette slouched on the couch with her head fallen all the way back against the cushions. Her eyes are closed, but they open slightly when she hears footsteps and notices Maca. “<em>Hola, rubia. Has v-vvuelto?”</em> </p><p>Her speech is slurred. </p><p>Macarena frowns. Something’s wrong here. </p><p>She looks around the room, until she notices a bottle of tequila standing on the floor next to the couch. There’s no glass in sight, nor is there some kind of soft drink to mix this with.</p><p>
  <em> She drank straight from the bottle. A 70cl bottle with less than half of it left now.  </em>
</p><p>A glance towards the kitchen tells Macarena that her half-finished pasta is still in the same pan on the stove, untouched, and the lack of plates or cutlery tells her that Zulema hasn’t eaten. It has definitely contributed to the state she’s in right now. </p><p>“What did you do?” Maca asks, kneeling down in front of the brunette. “Hey.” Her hands rest on Zulema’s knees and she shakes her gently, waiting until her dark green eyes - they’d fallen closed again - open up. </p><p>Even though she’s sitting down on the couch, Zulema’s movements are unsteady. Her head rolls to the side. </p><p>“I drank,” she slurs. “To forget you.” </p><p>Macarena is a little taken aback at the brunette’s response. The sudden openness and honesty is strange, coming from Zulema. She has to be really intoxicated to respond like this. The blonde doesn’t have to think of an answer though, because the older woman is already busy trying to move up into a sitting position. </p><p>“Here,” Maca holds out her hand for support. She’s still angry and definitely not over their fight from earlier, but seeing the brunette in this state awakens something in her. “What happened?” </p><p>Zulema is sitting up now, although she has both hands placed on either side of her waist to remain in that position. She looks down on Macarena, who’s still crouched on the floor in front of her.</p><p>“You have to leave. Me.” </p><p>These broken answers aren’t doing anything to calm Maca’s nerves.</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“Ramirez,” Zulema sighs in between words. “knows you’re with me.” </p><p>“Who’s Ramirez?” </p><p>“My rival,” the brunette responds. She gives up trying to keep her body upright, and lets herself fall back against the couch cushions again. “He knows you’re with <em> me</em>.” Her finger points at her own chest. “So I need you,” she points at Macarena, “to go. I don’t want you in danger.” </p><p><em> Ah, </em> Macarena sighs. <em> That explains a lot of Zulema’s behavior from the past few days. </em></p><p>“I’m not leaving you,” she states firmly. “Not over some stupid rival.” </p><p>Zulema looks at her. She blinks a few times, as if the words don’t make sense to her.</p><p>“I’m diff-difficult.” One of her hands goes up and presses against her forehead, and she closes her eyes against a wave of nausea. “I feel sick.” she mentions. </p><p>Macarena gets up from the floor now and holds out both hands this time. “Don't throw up here, please. Come with me.” The brunette takes her hands, but that’s about all the cooperation Maca can expect. It takes some strength to pull the other woman up from the couch and she quickly wraps an arm around Zulema’s waist, but the brunette pushes her away.</p><p>The blonde realizes she’s still trying to distance herself, even while completely drunk.</p><p>Macarena suddenly thinks of something. “Where’s your phone?” she asks, and watches as Zulema thinks really hard, before pointing at the table behind her. The younger woman takes the device from the table as Zulema walks off towards the hallway, and Maca is actually surprised at the fact that the brunette is able to do this by herself. </p><p>“Zulema, you can’t-</p><p>The interruption is immediate. “I’m ffffine,” it sounds from the hallway. Macarena shakes her head. “Sure you are,” she mumbles to herself as she follows the brunette into the master bedroom and immediately into the bathroom. Zulema sits down on the floor next to the toilet, with her back against the wall and her head in her hands. “I feel sick,” she repeats. </p><p>Maca has to take a deep breath, because there’s still unreleased anger from earlier running through her veins. “I wonder why,” she replies sarcastically. “What’s your code?” </p><p>“Oooone,” the brunette slurs. “Six. Threeee. One.” </p><p>The phone unlocks in Maca’s hands and she throws one last glance at the brunette before walking out of the bathroom, back into Zulema’s room. She finds the name she’s looking for immediately, and holds the phone to her ear.</p><p>
  <em>“Sí?”</em>
</p><p>“Hey Saray, it’s Maca,” the blonde starts. “I need your help.”</p><p>The woman on the other side is immediately alert. “What is it? Why do you have Zulema’s phone?”</p><p>“No, it’s nothing serious,” Macarena quickly says. “It’s just that … I was out tonight and by the time I came back, Zulema drank half a tequila bottle, maybe even more. Now she’s sitting on the bathroom- oh, she’s throwing up.” </p><p>Saray needs a second to take all the information in. </p><p>“What happened?” is her next question.</p><p>“I …,” Maca falls silent for a second. “We had a fight,” she mumbles. “It was stupid. But she just told me that some guy named Ramirez knows me. Or knows I’m with her? Do you know him?” </p><p>Saray sighs. “Yeah, I do. He’s a drug dealer in a different district.” </p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Zulema is worried about you. But she probably hasn’t told you, and it’s only making things worse for her.” </p><p>This is not the answer Macarena expected. It takes her a second to regroup, but the sound of Zulema coughing in the bathroom pulls her back into reality.</p><p>“What do I do now?” </p><p>“Get her some water and force her to drink it, because she won’t want to,” Saray replies. “Oh and painkillers, otherwise she’ll be insufferable in the morning.”</p><p>“She’s already insufferable without the alcohol,” Maca mentions. This makes Saray laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it.”</p><p>They fall into a short comfortable silence until the blonde sighs. “Okay, I’m going.” </p><p><em>“Vale. </em> Good luck,” Saray says. <em>“Oye, Maca?” </em></p><p>
  <em>“Sí?” </em>
</p><p>“Thank you. For taking care of her.” </p><p>“Yeah,” the blonde replies. And then adds, without even thinking, “I really like her, Saray.”</p><p>“I know,” the woman on the other side of the line answers. “She really likes you too.” </p><p>With those words as last ones, they disconnect.</p><p>Macarena puts Zulema's phone on her nightstand and quickly gets her a glass of water from the kitchen. When she finds her way back into the bathroom, Zulema is still sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, but she's not throwing up anymore. </p><p>"Here," the blonde says. "Water." </p><p>The brunette lifts her head, looking up at Maca. </p><p>"I don't-"</p><p>"Drink." </p><p>Surprisingly, the brunette doesn't protest more than that, and she takes a few sips of water before giving it back to Macarena.</p><p>"I'm tired."</p><p>The blonde sighs. She's still mad at the other woman, but seeing her like this hurts. She definitely hasn't forgiven Zulema, but knowing the reason why she's doing this - mostly thanks to Saray - makes it a little easier.</p><p>"Let's get you to bed then," Maca says, helping the brunette up from the floor. Zulema pushes her hand away. "I'm fine now." </p><p>The brunette indeed looks a bit better, although she's far from sober. But despite her shaky hands, the movements of her body are more steady and she manages to make her own way towards the bed, sitting down on the edge. Macarena follows and sets the glass of water down on her nightstand.</p><p>"Where do you have painkillers?" she asks.</p><p>Zulema points towards the nightstand. "Drawer," she replies, and starts to pull her shirt off. Apparently she's still drunk enough to not care about the fact that Macarena is standing right in front of her. Her sweatpants follow quickly, and Macarena has to work hard to suppress her body's natural response to seeing the brunette in her underwear.  </p><p>She opens the drawer and the first thing Maca notices are the pieces of paper. There must be at least thirty different loose pieces, with written words on them. </p><p>
  <em>you ruined me for everybody else - I tried to forgive you, I promise - now she's here and I want to open up but you're in my head and you make it impossible.</em>
</p><p>Macarena doesn't know if they're poems or beginnings of unfinished letters, but she knows that she wants to read more. She wants to read all of them, wants to know what they're about. Wants to ask Zulema about the story behind this. </p><p>She's distracted when Zulema goes to lie down, and Maca catches a glimpse of her bare chest, before the brunette pulls the covers over herself and mumbles something incoherent. The blonde quickly grabs a strip of pills from the drawer, closes it, and turns towards the brunette.</p><p>"Here. For tomorrow." </p><p>Zulema opens her eyes, but doesn't respond.</p><p>"You're going to get cold," Macarena mentions. "Let me grab you something." </p><p>She turns towards the closet with drawers in the corner of the room, and searches for a sweatshirt. It isn't hard to find one, because sweatshirts are basically all the brunette wears. She hands one to Zulema and manages to tear her eyes away when the brunette sits up and pulls it over her head, before lying down again. </p><p>"You good now? You're not gonna throw up again?" Macarena questions, scanning the brunette's face. </p><p>Zulema mumbles something affirmative and Maca takes this as a yes. She glances at the nightstand - painkillers and water - and decides it’s okay for now. She turns away towards the door and is just about to make her way back into the hallway, but Zulema’s voice stops her.</p><p>“Stay.” </p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>Macarena turns back and finds that the other woman is looking at her expectantly.</p><p>"Stay with me." </p><p><em> She’s definitely still too drunk to realize what she’s saying, </em>the blonde thinks. But she also remembers their night together when she first came here, and how she's been longing for another night like that ever since. </p><p>"Okay."</p><p>Maca's feet automatically take her to the other side of the bed. She slips out of her own clothes and bra, not bothering to find another sweatshirt because Zulema isn't looking anyway, and settles down next to the brunette. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the cliffhanger 👀</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. drunk words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not entiiiiirely satisfied with this but it'll have to do.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It could be the alcohol. It probably is, because Zulema’s speech hasn’t improved to the point where it’s perfectly understandable, but at least she’s able to form full sentences again.</p><p>The two women are now lying next to each other; Zulema on her left side, with her back turned towards the blonde, and Macarena on her back, staring up at the ceiling. They haven’t exchanged another word since Maca has gotten into bed, and it’s been nearly fifteen minutes. The blonde is pretty sure Zulema must be asleep by now.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, remember the last time you thought she was sleeping? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fair enough. </em>
</p><p>Until the brunette starts to talk.</p><p>"I've spent my entire life trying to create a home for myself,” she starts. Her voice is soft and honest, although she’s clearly still drunk. “I left a house that didn't feel like home, and tried to create a new one with my boyfriend. Until he hurt me, like everyone in my life until then, so I left his house too.”</p><p>Maca turns her head towards the older woman to figure out what’s going on, but Zulema hasn’t moved an inch. She’s just saying these words into the quiet of the bedroom. It seems the alcohol doesn’t only make her more direct <em>(I drank to forget you)</em>, but also more sentimental. The brunette apparently doesn't care about what she’s saying, and the blonde definitely doesn’t mind listening. Maybe now she’ll finally open up. </p><p>“Then I came here, in Madrid, and found a place in the center. It was nice and it had everything I needed, but I couldn't make myself feel at home. So I moved to a different apartment, and moved again to another one, and again until I ended up here and tried to make peace with the fact that maybe, I wouldn't feel at home anywhere.”</p><p>She falls silent. Macarena doesn’t notice at first, because the thoughts in her head are way too loud. The older woman definitely isn't fully aware of what she's saying right now, because a sober Zulema wouldn’t have said all of this.</p><p>The sheets next to Maca move and the brunette shifts her body until she’s lying on her back as well. </p><p><em>“Rubia?”</em> she questions. </p><p>Macarena takes a breath. “Yeah?” </p><p>“I think this house feels a little more like home now.”</p><p>
  <em> Now that you’re here.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema doesn’t say those last words, but they both hear them. </p><p>Macarena swallows. How can she respond to this?</p><p>“I guess,” she tries. “Home doesn’t always have to be a place. It could be a feeling, or a person.” </p><p>The brunette is quiet as her mind tries to take this in. By tomorrow morning, she might’ve already forgotten about all of this. At least the moment feels nice right now. </p><p>She makes a humming noise in response, before turning back onto her side. </p><p>“Night, <em> rubia.</em>” </p><p>Just like that, the conversation is over. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema is the first to wake up the next morning, and she immediately wishes she didn’t. Everything hurts, especially her head, and her body feels weak. Opening her eyes hurts too, so she keeps them firmly shut while she groans and rolls over to her other side. And then she notices it.</p><p>Warmth. Human warmth, radiating from a body that shouldn’t be there.</p><p>She manages to crack one eye open just enough to see familiar blonde curls spilled over the other pillow.</p><p>
  <em> What the hell? </em>
</p><p>The blonde isn’t facing her, but her bare shoulders peeking above the covers tell Zulema that Maca isn’t wearing a shirt. Her hands itch to reach out and touch the bare skin. She closes her eyes instead, because the light is too bright and it fucking hurts her head. Besides, she needs to <em> think. </em></p><p>Yesterday, they fought. She does remember that. Macarena left, and she started drinking in front of the tv. After a few hours, the blonde came back, and Zulema remembers feeling sick. </p><p>
  <em> Wait. </em>
</p><p>She doesn’t remember how she got to the bathroom, but the memory of throwing up in the toilet is still very vivid. So is the image of Maca, handing her a glass of water after she’d thrown up. And then a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it, so she could brush her teeth before…  </p><p>
  <em> Before what? </em>
</p><p>Next to her, Macarena stirs and starts to move. The brunette watches as she slowly rolls over and opens her eyes, managing a smile when she notices Zulema looking at her. </p><p>“What are you doing in my bed?” Zulema asks, not giving the blonde time to wake up.</p><p>Maca yawns and pulls the covers further over her bare shoulders, all the way up to her neck. “You don’t remember?” </p><p>“Not really, no.” Zulema’s voice is deep and husky. </p><p>The blonde hesitates shortly, but answers anyway.</p><p>“You were drunk when I got home. You had to throw up and once I got you into bed, you asked me to stay.”</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Macarena searches the brunette’s face for any sign of emotion, but she’s exceptionally good at hiding it. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” she tries.</p><p>“My head hurts.”  </p><p>After a few seconds, Zulema rolls over and makes a move to get up. </p><p>“No.” One of Macarena’s arms appears from under the covers and reaches out to grab hold of the brunette’s sweater. “I want to talk about this now. Otherwise you’re just going to walk off, and we’ll never talk about it again.”</p><p>Zulema doesn’t make a move to lie down again, but she doesn’t attempt to escape from the blonde’s grip either. She’s too tired to protest. </p><p>“And I don’t want to find you drunk again, especially not if I’m the reason,” Maca adds.</p><p>The older woman freezes. </p><p>“Who told you that? </p><p>“You, at first. Then Saray. I called her with your phone.” </p><p>Zulema sighs - this is too much information for her hungover brain - and decides to lie down again. On her back, though, so she doesn’t have to face the blonde who’s still looking at her. </p><p>“Fine,” she complies. “What do you want to know?” </p><p>If Maca is surprised at her cooperation, she doesn’t show it. Zulema blames her own behavior on the alcohol; everything is still a little fuzzy, and she’s pretty sure she’ll answer anything the blonde asks her right now. </p><p>However, her will to cooperate decreases drastically when the blonde chooses <em> now </em>to ask one of the most heavily loaded questions still left unanswered between them. </p><p>“What’s going on between us? What is this?”  </p><p>Zulema closes her eyes again. She already regrets her decision. </p><p>“I don’t know,” she answers. “You tell me.” </p><p>Macarena snuggles further under the warm covers. If they’re gonna have this conversation now, she might just as well be comfortable.</p><p>“It was just work at first,” the blonde says. “Work for me. Relaxation for you. But it’s different now. You made me feel something. And it feels like …” she trails off, unsure. </p><p>“Like what?” Zulema presses. </p><p>Maca takes a breath. Now or never.</p><p>“Like I’m falling in love with you.” </p><p>Zulema shakes her head, as much as it’s possible while still laying on her pillow. “You’re not in love with me,” she sighs. “You’re in love with an image of me. An image that I created for you. But I’m not … that.”  </p><p>Macarena’s reply is immediate, the disbelief evident in her voice. “No,” she says. “I liked you from the first day. You looked at me like I was different. And I knew that <em> you </em>were different too.” </p><p>Maybe it’s just the lighting, but the blonde would swear the corners of Zulema’s closed eyes are a little wet. Her suspicions are confirmed when the brunette answers and her voice trembles slightly, just enough to notice.</p><p>“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” the brunette replies. “I’ve killed people, Maca.” </p><p>The younger woman remembers their short conversation from last night, where Zulema mentioned some things about her childhood, but she’s never really told Macarena about her life and the things that happened to her. </p><p>“I don’t care what you’ve done,” Maca replies. It’s true. Those things have only made Zulema into the person she is today. Strong, independent, and maybe a little hard to love, but she’ll take it. </p><p>“You may have killed people, but you saved me.” </p><p>This answer is something the brunette didn’t expect at all, and it leaves her speechless. The blonde is slowly breaking through the concrete walls around her heart, and all she can do is watch it happen. Resistance seems to be futile. Macarena is too good, and already knows her too well.</p><p>“I don’t know if I can do this,” she mumbles, turning her head away from the blonde. “I really don’t know.” </p><p>Macarena feels the overwhelming urge to close the physical distance between them. But the brunette is already vulnerable, and she doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. So she asks.</p><p>“Can I lie with you? Closer to you, I mean?” </p><p>It’s silent for a few seconds, and Maca is almost sure the other woman will refuse. </p><p>But then. “Only if you put some clothes on.” </p><p>The blonde frowns. “Why?”</p><p>“Cause it’s distracting.” </p><p>This actually makes Macarena laugh. Even in situations like this, her naked body has an effect on the brunette. She secretly loves it. </p><p>“Alright,” she replies with a smile. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reaches for yesterday’s long sleeve which is still laying on the floor. It’s not dirty, though. Zulema’s house is so clean that there isn’t even any dust on the shirt, despite the fact that it has been on the floor all night. </p><p>She straightens her back and can practically feel the brunette’s eyes burning into her skin.</p><p>“If it’s distracting you so much, then why are you looking?” Macarena questions with a knowing smile on her face, while she’s pulling the shirt over her head.</p><p>“I’m not looking,” she hears Zulema mumble behind her. </p><p>Once the sweatshirt is on, Maca turns back and slides under the covers, closing the distance between her and the brunette. She feels Zulema shiver as their legs come into contact with each other, and Maca’s forehead touches the brunette’s shoulder. </p><p>“I’m only letting you do this because I’m tired,” Zulema explains. She doesn’t even protest when the blonde slides a hand over her stomach.</p><p>“You can’t keep blaming this on other things,” Macarena counters. "Blaming it on everything <em>but</em> your feelings." </p><p>Zulema feels the urge to get up again. To get away from this. She wants to close herself off again, hide in the safe space between the walls she created for herself. But what is that safe space worth, if nothing has ever felt safer than lying under the covers with Maca wrapped around you?</p><p>The brunette wants them to be more than just two women temporarily living together because one of them doesn’t have a home. She wants them to be more than just two women who fucked a couple of times because Macarena was simply doing her job. </p><p>“I think,” Zulema starts. Having Maca’s body pressed up against her makes her feel safe enough to say this. “Maybe, I don’t really hate you as much.”</p><p>The sentence feels like some kind of weird reverse psychology. But at least it’s a start. </p><p>Macarena’s arm tightens around the brunette’s waist, who tenses up immediately. “I don’t-”</p><p>“Shh.”</p><p>The blonde keeps her arm right there, waiting until the brunette relaxes, while her mind is running wild.</p><p>
  <em> Did she just confess to actually liking me?  </em>
</p><p>Macarena is debating what to do. There’s no better moment than this.  </p><p>She has to be careful with the way she phrases her next sentence though, because she could easily mess this up. She doesn’t know what Zulema thinks of the word girlfriend, or anything related to that. But she finds something else.</p><p>Her breath tickles the brunette's ear as she lifts her head.</p><p>“I want to be with you,” she whispers. “If you’ll have me.” </p><p>She watches as Zulema opens her eyes and wets her lips, and after a few quiet seconds, takes away her earlier doubts with the next question. </p><p>“Like girlfriends?” </p><p>Macarena smiles.</p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>She decides to be a little daring, because playing safe has never gotten her anywhere. She presses a soft kiss to the skin of the brunette’s neck. And then, does it again. Zulema shivers. Maca pulls back. </p><p>The brunette turns her head, meeting light green eyes that are already looking up at her, and Zulema <em> knows </em> what she wants. She’s known it for a while, but giving in has always felt terrifying. Except it’s not so scary now, with the both of them safely tucked under the covers and the blonde cuddled up next to her and looking at her with those eyes. </p><p>“I’m not gonna hold your hand or anything, if that’s what you think.” </p><p>The response is so Zulema that Maca has to work hard to suppress a laugh. A smile tugs at her lips anyway, and the brunette’s eyes fall down for a second before they flicker back up.  </p><p>“Is that a yes?” Maca asks. </p><p>Zulema shifts until she’s laying on her right side, facing the blonde. Their faces are even closer together now. </p><p>“Maybe.” </p><p>Maca is about to ask the brunette if she can be serious for <em> once </em> in her life, but she doesn’t even get the chance. The only thing she can do is nearly forget how to breathe when Zulema leans in and kisses her. She still tastes like tequila with a hint of toothpaste and it’s definitely not the best combination, but Maca wouldn’t have it any other way. </p><p>It’s the first time Zulema initiates a kiss. That, along with her earlier answer, tells Macarena all she needs to know. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Their behavior is a little uneasy at first. Both are unsure how to feel about this new development. Macarena doesn’t know if she’s allowed to kiss the brunette anytime she wants, and Zulema doesn’t know what to do at all. The blonde’s confidence, acquired over the years through her work experience, comes in handy now. </p><p>Maca finds Zulema in the kitchen. The brunette is preparing a late lunch; the two of them had stayed in bed the remainder of the morning and a part of the afternoon, kissing and talking and hands roaming over bodies. But once out of bed, Zulema seems to have lost some of the physical confidence to do these things. Almost as if her bed is a safe haven and everything happening outside of it is still uncomfortable. </p><p>So, Macarena takes the first steps, with the intention of letting the brunette know she can do anything she wants now. She leans on the separate kitchen island with her elbows, across from Zulema who’s standing on the other side. The brunette is busy cutting vegetables for the soup she’s making and Macarena is temporarily distracted by how peaceful she looks. A massive difference compared to last night, when they were fighting and Maca left the apartment with tears in her eyes. </p><p>She doesn’t realize for how long she’s been staring until Zulema pauses her movements. </p><p>“Are you just going to stand there and look at me?” she says. </p><p>Macarena smiles. “Yes.” </p><p>Zulema rolls her eyes, but eventually continues her work while Maca doesn't stop watching her. It becomes harder when the blonde rounds the kitchen island and comes to stand next to her, one arm finding its way around the brunette’s waist. </p><p>Maybe somewhere in the future, this move will be seen as something comforting, a show of affection and a way of saying ‘hey, I’m here’. But right now, in the beginning stages of their relationship, a move like this only causes the sexual tension between them to rise again. And Zulema’s raspy voice doesn’t help.</p><p>“Anything I can help you with?” </p><p>Maca smiles. “I think you could use a quick break.”</p><p>Zulema pauses her movements once more. The knife finds a place on the white marble island and so do Zulema’s hands, resting flat against the surface. She turns her head and meets light green eyes.</p><p>“What do you propose?” </p><p>Macarena bites her lip. Her eyes are sparkling with joy. </p><p>“A kiss?” </p><p>As if Zulema could resist. Her left hand comes up and cups the blonde’s jaw before pressing their lips together for the hundredth time today, if not more. Maca pulls on her waist until they’re facing each other and wraps both arms around the brunette, wanting her even closer. </p><p>“You can touch me too, you know,” she mumbles into their kiss, when Zulema appears to be holding back. These words seem to give the brunette the confidence boost she needs. Her hands slide around the younger woman’s body and down her back, until they cup her butt - it looks good in her denim skinny jeans - and pull the blonde flush against her.  </p><p>Macarena’s breath hitches and her lips part, but the moan gets stuck in her throat. </p><p>“Like that?” the brunette whispers. </p><p>“Yeah,” follows Maca’s breathy answer. </p><p>Zulema pulls back after placing a last kiss on the blonde’s lips. “Once I’m comfortable with all of this, <em> rubia, </em>it’s over for you.” </p><p>“What does that mean?”</p><p>“Just wait. You’ll find out.” </p><p>Macarena swallows. Zulema grins and turns back towards the kitchen island with the intention of continuing her meal. </p><p>She’s won this round. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Zulema.” </p><p>The brunette looks up from her phone. Macarena is looking at her from the other side of the couch with her own phone in her hands. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>The blonde hands the device over to the other woman with an unreadable expression on her face. “Miguel keeps texting me. Look.” </p><p>
  <em> Ah.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema takes the phone from Macarena and scrolls through the messages.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re just going to ignore me for the rest of your life?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Come on, Maca. Don’t do this to me. Talk to me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We can solve this, I promise. I still love you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The younger woman interrupts her scrolling when she speaks up again. “What does he want? I just don’t get it. I’m not going back to him.” </p><p>Zulema hands the phone back. “Speaking of Miguel, Maca,” she starts. They need to talk about this, and they’re discussing the subject now anyway. “I have to tell you something.”</p><p>Macarena’s eyes go wide, panicky. “What?”</p><p>“Did I tell you about Ramirez last night?” Zulema asks first. She doesn’t really remember.</p><p>“Yeah. He’s your rival?”</p><p>“Alright,” Zulema takes a deep breath, preparing for what’s to come. “Miguel works for him.” </p><p>The blonde’s face contracts into something that can only be described as intense fear, only for a few seconds, before it fades and turns into disbelief. She looks at Zulema and then away, focusing on the TV that isn’t even on, just to get everything straight. She needs a full minute before she turns back to the other woman only to find that she’s still watching her intently. </p><p>“So, Miguel is a drug dealer,” she states. </p><p>“Yeah,” Zulema replies. “You seem to have a thing for them.” </p><p>This actually makes Macarena smile despite the situation. “Apparently.” She runs a hand through her hair. “For long long has he been doing this? For how long has he been <em> lying </em> to me?” </p><p>Zulema shakes her head. “I don’t know. But they seem pretty close, because he told Ramirez about you leaving him.”</p><p>Maca senses where this is going, and she doesn’t like it.</p><p>“Ramirez threatened you,” the brunette continues. “Or me, rather. Both of us. That’s why I was worried.” </p><p>“Me?” </p><p>“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”</p><p>The blonde scoots over to Zulema until their bodies are touching. “This is not just your problem anymore,” she states. “Especially because he was <em> my </em> boyfriend.”</p><p>The older woman stays silent, because it feels like there’s more to this. And it seems there is, because Macarena isn’t done. “I can’t believe he did that,” she continues. “He kept this from me! He used to be gone for days, and it was always a business trip or other work related stuff. He never told me. I’m so <em> sick </em>of him,” she spits, turning to face Zulema. “What are you going to do? I want to help.” </p><p>“You’re helping me by staying silent,” Zulema replies, “And don’t answer his texts. I don’t want him to know that <em> you </em> know. I need to think of something first.” The brunette leans in and quickly presses their lips together before getting up from the couch. “I’m going to do some groceries,” she mentions. “I’ll be back in an hour, or so.”</p><p>Macarena follows her movements and gets up from the couch as well.</p><p>“I’m coming with you.”</p><p>Zulema, already halfway into the hallway, turns back around. “I’m not a child, you know. I can handle this myself.” </p><p>The blonde rolls her eyes and sighs exasperatedly.</p><p>“Does it ever occur to you that I <em> like </em>being around you?” </p><p>Their bicker back and forth like this while slipping into their winter coats - it’s the middle of November and starting to get colder now - but make up by kissing right before they leave the apartment. These displays of affection are already starting to get easier, Maca feels less resistance and uncertainty coming from the other woman. And the truth is, she really can’t <em> wait </em>until Zulema is fully comfortable around her. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The evening comes with its own problems. Macarena finds herself yawning more and more often, until she finally decides that she really needs to sleep. But the question is, <em> where </em>? Does she still have to sleep in the guest room? Or will the brunette allow her to sleep with her again? Despite the fact that Zulema is really trying to let her in - Macarena is obviously paying attention - she might still need her own space.</p><p>Maca decides to play it safe today. She leaves Zulema to herself in the living room with a quick kiss on the lips and a <em> goodnight </em>following right after. While she walks into the hallway, the brunette listens carefully for the squeak of that one door. Her own bedroom door doesn’t make a sound, but the one leading into the guest room does. </p><p>
  <em> Ah. There it is. </em>
</p><p>She debates between staying put on the couch and going to the blonde to tell her that she doesn’t have to stay there, if she doesn’t want to. Her rational side screams no and her emotions are telling her to say <em> yes, let her stay</em>. </p><p>They win again. </p><p><em> I can’t let my emotions win every time, </em>Zulema thinks to herself, but her feet are already carrying her into the hallway. </p><p>She finds the blonde in the guest bathroom, dressed in a long nightshirt and a toothbrush in her mouth.</p><p>“Where are you going?”</p><p>Macarena raises her eyebrows. “.... to bed?” she manages with a mouth full of toothpaste.</p><p>Zulema leans against the door frame. “Aren’t you staying with me?” she asks. </p><p>The blonde wants to say something, but she realizes it’s too long to properly pronounce right now. She makes a motion for the brunette to turn around, and now it’s Zulema’s turn to frown.</p><p>“<em>Qué?” </em></p><p>“I don wan you do see me spit,” the blonde mumbles, pointing at her toothbrush. “Turn.” </p><p>The brunette shakes her head with a knowing smile. </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“<em>Zule.</em>” </p><p>The shortened name is only because three syllables are too many for Maca right now, but Zulema’s eyes widen in surprise. Saray is the only person who calls her that. She can’t say she doesn’t like it though. </p><p>“Fine, fine,” she gives in and does what she’s asked, turning around to face the bedroom instead. The tap is turned on and the water starts to run. “Done,” it sounds five seconds later. Zulema turns back around. “Happy now?” </p><p>“Very,” Macarena smiles, wiping her mouth on a towel. “But I was saying. Do you want me to stay with you? Can I?” </p><p>The brunette grins. “I even asked you last night.”</p><p>“When you were drunk, yeah.” </p><p>Zulema steps closer to the blonde, a response already on her lips. Macarena goes in for a kiss, but Zulema turns her head and leans in to whisper in the blonde’s ear.</p><p>“You know what they say about drunk words, <em>rubia?”  </em></p><p>The response takes too long, and she pulls back to the sight of Maca with her eyes closed. She has to hold back a laugh at how easy that was. This will be fun later.</p><p>“Well?” Zulema pushes. The blonde’s eyes fly open. </p><p>“No,” she answers. Even if she knew, she probably wouldn't be able to voice her answer now anyway.  </p><p>Their bodies are still close together, close enough for Zulema to feel the heat radiating from the younger woman’s body. She makes sure to look into light green eyes while she gives her answer. </p><p>“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”</p><p>There are a few seconds of silence in which Macarena doesn’t find the words to respond. Zulema eventually turns away, a smirk on her face at the blonde’s nonresponse. Already back in the bedroom, she calls over her shoulder. </p><p>“I’ll see you in a few.” </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. expanding boundaries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <strong>trigger warning: mention of rape</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I'll deal with Miguel and Ramirez, but not until the next chapter. I felt like this chapter needed to stand on its own. Enjoy ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It doesn’t happen that night. Nor does it happen the night after, or that night after. Macarena doesn’t mind. Honestly, she doesn’t even consider the idea of having sex with the brunette again, because she’s perfectly content with curling into Zulema’s side every night and falling asleep like that. </p><p>But then, a week after Zulema got drunk and confessed her feelings and a week and a day after Macarena was allowed to sleep in the brunette’s bed, it happens. </p><p>Not after a random and long, mostly one-sided conversation, though.</p><p>Everything starts when they’re in bed together after a long day; Zulema had been gone most of the afternoon, doing drug-related stuff she didn’t elaborate on, Macarena had busied herself with cleaning the apartment. Today was her last full day at home. Tomorrow she starts work again, and she can’t decide if she’s looking forward to it or if she’d rather stay here with Zulema. </p><p>She tries to take her mind off things by reading a magazine, while Zulema is engrossed in a book. Or that’s what Maca thinks, because the brunette is turned away from her and she can’t see if she’s actually reading. </p><p>Until Zulema starts to talk. </p><p>“I actually really hate winter,” she says. “It’s fucking cold, yet it never snows.” </p><p>Macarena stops reading and turns her head towards the other woman, who continues talking. </p><p>“So it feels kind of pointless. Why would you like the cold if you can’t have the snow?” </p><p>Maca doesn’t know if she’s supposed to answer. She closes her magazine and puts it on the nightstand, before rolling over onto her left side so she can look at Zulema’s back. It seems the brunette doesn’t expect an answer, because she simply continues talking.</p><p>“We never had cold winters where I’m from. Egypt is either pleasantly warm or insufferably hot. There’s no in between.” The brunette sighs, but doesn’t turn around just yet. “I sometimes think about what it would be like to go back. Not for my family, though. I don’t want to see them again.” </p><p>Suddenly, the brunette reaches over and places her book on her own nightstand, before rolling over to face the blonde. </p><p>“Do you have family?”</p><p>The question is sudden and unexpected, coming from Zulema. Macarena takes a breath and looks into the brunette’s eyes. </p><p>“Yes,” Maca answers. She almost feels guilty saying this after what Zulema just confessed about her own family. “My mother lives in the countryside. I visit her a few times a year, whenever I have the time and money. We call from time to time.” </p><p>“And your father?”</p><p>Macarena swallows. “He died when I was young,” she explains. “Heart attack. They couldn’t save him.”  </p><p>“Oh,” Zulema replies, a silent apology visible in her eyes. </p><p>Maca shakes her head. “It’s okay. I just wish I could’ve gotten to know him.”</p><p>They look at each other in silence, simply taking the time to inspect every inch of the other’s face. A dimple, a tiny birthmark. Green eyes. Long lashes. </p><p>“Maybe that’s why I hated Christmas so much.” </p><p>Zulema again. Macarena looks at her lips as they form the words, but finds herself falling into deep green eyes the second she looks up and meets them.</p><p>“We don’t celebrate Christmas in my culture,” the brunette continues. “When I came here, everyone was so excited about this holiday I didn’t even understand. I was told that you celebrate Christmas with family,” her voice gets a little softer, “but I didn’t have a family anymore.” </p><p>The blonde’s eyes fill up with tears immediately and she shifts forward until she’s close enough to press their lips together. Her hand finds the brunette’s jaw, and she feels Zulema’s hand slide over her waist to pull her closer. When they part after a few seconds, Zulema doesn’t pull away. Their bodies stay pressed together and Macarena looks into her eyes, wanting to know everything about this woman in front of her.</p><p>“Tell me more.” </p><p>Zulema’s expression is nearly unreadable, but Maca finds a hint of trust in there. </p><p>“Like what?” the brunette questions.</p><p>The younger woman thinks. She doesn’t want to bring up her past again. So she goes for something lighter and maybe a little cliché, but it’ll have to do.</p><p>“Your favorite movie.” </p><p>Zulema purses her lips. “I don’t like movies,” she replies. “Books are better. You can imagine things for yourself instead of things being imagined for you.” </p><p>Maca hums in response. It’s enough for the brunette to continue. </p><p>“But I don’t really have a favorite book, I think. There are too many to choose from. There was one I used to read all the time when I was younger though. It’s called The Secret Garden.” </p><p>Macarena studies her face. In moments like these, she likes Zulema most. The brunette is open and willing to share things. Not pushing her away, whether it’s physically or emotionally. </p><p>“I’ll read it sometime,” she answers. The hand that was still resting on the brunette’s jaw slides down until it comes to rest on her waist. Maca feels Zulema take a deep breath before the older woman closes her eyes, but she doesn’t turn away, allowing Maca to just look at her.</p><p>The blonde has so many questions left to ask, and despite the fact that she wanted to keep this conversation light and easy, she wants to <em> know. </em>She has to.</p><p>“What happened to you?” </p><p>Underneath her hand on Zulema’s waist, she can feel the muscles tense up. She strokes her thumb over the brunette’s t-shirt in an attempt to calm her down. </p><p>It doesn’t take long for deep green eyes to open and meet Maca’s again. Zulema is unsure of answering, Macarena can tell, but it won’t take much. </p><p>The blonde leans in and kisses her shortly before pulling back, waiting for an answer. </p><p>Zulema takes a deep breath first. She shifts and rolls over second - there’s no way she’s doing this while looking at the blonde - until she faces away from Macarena. </p><p>The answer comes third.</p><p>“My parents made me marry a man when I was fourteen,” she says. Her voice is soft, barely audible if you’re not laying directly next to her. Luckily, Macarena is doing just that.</p><p>“We were poor, he was rich. They told me I had to do it. Stubborn as I was and still am, I wasn’t going to do that. So I ran away.”</p><p>“At fourteen?”</p><p>Zulema nods. “Yeah. We lived in a rural area and I escaped to the city.” </p><p>Macarena shakes her head in disbelief. A young Zulema on the run because she doesn’t want to get married to an old man. The idea hurts. </p><p>“I had been living on the streets in the city for two years when I met my boyfriend,” the brunette continues. “I was sixteen, he was twenty one. He was kind and he promised me he’d take care of me.”</p><p>Maca feels an unnecessary pang of jealousy at the thought of Zulema with someone else. She doesn’t show it in her face, but her hand tightens around the brunette’s waist. </p><p>“And did he? Take care of you?” </p><p>“In the beginning, yeah,” Zulema replies. “The first few years were amazing. He even wanted to wait until I was eighteen before we did anything. Including kissing.” </p><p>“Hm,” the blonde mumbles to indicate that she’s still listening. She closes her eyes and focuses on the brunette’s voice. </p><p>“Then he sold me to his friends.” </p><p>Macarena’s eyes immediately fly open again.</p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>Zulema shivers and takes another deep breath, a little shakier this time. Maybe she’s keeping the tears at bay, Maca realizes. She shifts impossibly closer.</p><p>“I had to sleep with them to ‘pay my debts’. I didn’t even know I had debts, but he said he’d been paying everything for me, letting me stay with him and everything. I thought he was just doing that out of love.” </p><p>If it’s possible, Macarena’s heart breaks even more. “I don’t …,” she trails off, unable to find the right words. This explains why Zulema has been holding back all the time. Of course Maca knew that something had happened to her, but she didn’t know to which extent these things had influenced her life. Now she knows. </p><p>She pulls on the brunette’s waist, silently begging her to turn back around. She knows that Zulema hates being looked at when she’s telling something like this, but she has to see her. And it seems the most difficult part of the conversation is over now. </p><p>The older woman obeys eventually and it isn’t long until Maca finds deep green eyes again. The hand around Zulema’s waist comes up to cup her cheek. Zulema doesn’t flinch. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Maca whispers. “If I knew this, I never would’ve tried to touch you.” </p><p><em> “No pasa nada</em>,” the older woman replies. She sounds completely honest, and the blonde relaxes a little. “I never felt unsafe with you.”</p><p>The blonde’s heart skips a beat. “Neither have I,” she replies.</p><p>They fall into another comfortable silence after Zulema’s confession. Simply looking at each other again, looking for the same dimples and birthmarks and soft lips, while surrounded by the smell of Maca’s white floral perfume. </p><p>They both feel the change in the air the second it happens, and their eyes flash upwards at the same time. The younger woman holds her breath as Zulema’s gaze drops to her lips again but she waits, because it needs to be Zulema who makes the final decision. They know this won’t be another quick kiss; this will lead to something more, although neither one knows exactly how far they’ll go. </p><p>Between both women, the displays of affection have gotten much easier over the past few days. That’s a fact. Zulema usually isn’t the one to initiate, but she lets Macarena kiss her anytime. She allows Maca to rest her head on her shoulder when they’re watching TV, and she allows her to fall asleep while being pressed up against her. </p><p>Now, she allows Maca to <em> know </em> her. Know her story, know her past. And she trusts the blonde to stay after all of this. </p><p>And Macarena, on her part, proves that she’s not going anywhere by staying exactly where she is. Somehow managing to keep her breathing slow and even, while Zulema’s eyes move up from her lips to scan her face and then move down once more. </p><p>She’s finally rewarded when the brunette pulls on her waist and leans in at the same time; hesitation suddenly turns into untamable desire, their lips meet again and it feels different. Hungry but soft at the same time, the kind of <em> i want you now </em> but at the same time <em> let’s take things slow.  </em></p><p>It very briefly crosses Maca’s mind that she needs to get up at eight tomorrow for her first day back at work. Although honestly, she couldn’t care less about the amount of sleep she’s gonna get. She’s dying to have Zulema’s hands on her, and hers on Zulema. </p><p>The brunette rolls them over so she’s on top while her hands are already pulling on the shirt Maca’s supposed to be sleeping in. </p><p>“Help me out here,” the older woman mumbles into their kiss, pulling the blonde up just enough for her to take the shirt off. It leaves her bare-chested and a little cold, until a warm mouth makes its way down her neck and an equally warm hand cups her breast. </p><p>It draws a moan from Macarena and one hand tangles into raven hair as Zulema sucks on her skin. The brunette’s hand moves from the blonde’s breast to somewhere behind her own back, reaching for the covers to pull over them. </p><p>Then, it happens.</p><p>Macarena flexes her thigh in an attempt to scoot upwards a little, so she can rest her head on the pillow more comfortably. The movement causes her to accidentally brush her thigh against the brunette’s center, and neither one of them is prepared for that. Especially not Zulema, who goes rigid at the contact. The only thing she’s wearing is an oversized shirt and underwear, so the contact is almost skin on skin. An unexpected wave of pleasure runs through Zulema’s body when she realizes what this could turn into, how easy it would be. All she’d have to do is roll her hips against the blonde’s thigh again. It’s the perfect opportunity to stay in control, and she knows she could eventually come just from that. </p><p>Maca looks up at the older woman as she realizes what’s happening. Hoping <em> please please please </em>but staying absolutely still. Zulema is watching her intently, thinking and thinking and deciding, while the silence stretches for five, ten, fifteen seconds. </p><p>But then, the brunette slowly starts the movement of her hips. She rests one of her hands on Maca’s rib cage for support and the other pushes the covers - the ones she just pulled over them - away again. Her eyes threaten to fall closed at the sudden pleasurable feeling. The pressure against her clit is just right, and it’s almost overwhelming how <em> good </em> it feels. </p><p>Macarena looks up at the older woman while she desperately tries to suppress her own arousal. She has always loved the feeling of Zulema above her, but it was never for the brunette’s own pleasure. The control this gives her is perfect. She’s completely in charge of her own movements and can continue to look down on Maca, instead of having to look up. </p><p>They don’t talk just yet. It would break the spell. </p><p>The blonde’s stare makes Zulema feel naked despite the fact that she’s still wearing her long shirt, and she feels the uneasiness start to creep up on her. This is where she would normally stop and take over, but she’s desperately trying not to give into that feeling. She wants this. So instead, the brunette leans forward and buries her head in Maca’s neck while her hips go on pushing desperately. It feels safer that way, without the blonde really being able to see her. Meanwhile, Macarena’s hands slide over the brunette’s clothed back, one coming to rest in between her shoulder blades and the other wraps around her hip, guiding her movements and keeping her close at the same time. </p><p>“I don’t know how long-“ Zulema starts. </p><p>“We have time.” </p><p>She meant to say <em> how long it’ll take before I get there. </em>Macarena understood her either way. </p><p>Zulema tries to suppress a moan when she rolls her hips <em> just right </em> and her fingers dig into the blonde’s shoulder. She wins the battle and the moan doesn’t leave her lips, but the one thing she can’t hide is her labored breathing. Not that she’s usually a quiet person during sex, or at least she never used to be, back when she still let other people touch her. It just feels too overwhelming and too vulnerable to make a sound right now. </p><p>Feeling herself being pressed into the mattress every time Zulema moves, Macarena is perfectly content with just listening and holding on to the older woman above her. The way Zulema’s body moves against hers is the most breathtaking mixture of power and vulnerability. There’s strength in the way she rolls her hips, and there’s vulnerability in the way she gives herself over to the pleasure she feels. Finally. </p><p>Zulema breaks the silence - whatever you’d call silence with the sound of a body rubbing against a bare leg and heavy breaths - when she needs more. </p><p>"Maca," she groans. "Inside." </p><p>The blonde shivers at the command. She obeys immediately, of course, and manages to push her hand in between their bodies and inside Zulema's underwear. </p><p>"One?" she asks. No more, unnecessary words are needed. Zulema nods into her neck. And then bites down hard, when Maca slides inside of her.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>Even with just one finger pressing inside, the brunette is tight. Maca doesn’t know how long it’s been since the other woman has let someone touch her. She knows that Zulema used to pick up girls while going out, but maybe she hasn’t really slept with someone since, well, him. </p><p>That one finger seems to do the job though, because Zulema’s breath hitches and her hips start pushing just that more desperately than before. And Macarena knows that now is not the time to try two. Now, all she wants to do is help the brunette find relief during the first time that she's letting Maca touch her. </p><p>When one specific heavy breath from the older woman almost resembles a moan, Macarena can't take it anymore. "Fuck, Zulema," she moans into raven hair. "You feel good."</p><p>Zulema continues rolling her hips and her clit now finds relief against the palm of Maca's hand instead of against her leg. “Yeah?” the brunette breathes in response. She finds that this isn’t so scary now. She’s in control. But she can already imagine the nervousness for the first time Macarena will touch her when their positions are reversed. </p><p>“Kiss me,” the blonde pleads, taking Zulema’s mind off things again. </p><p>Zulema lifts her head from where it was hiding in the space between Maca’s shoulder and neck, and immediately presses their lips together while her movements get more frantic. The blonde notices - otherwise the feeling of Zulema clenching around her finger would’ve done it - and pulls back a little.</p><p>“Are you close?” she mumbles against parted lips. </p><p>She gets her answer in the form of a sharp intake of breath and a very quiet, low moan from Zulema, who goes back to hiding her face in blonde curls. </p><p>A breathy <em> mhm </em>follows eventually, answering Maca’s question. The brunette’s fingers dig into the younger woman’s shoulder as she rolls her hips once, twice-</p><p>“I’m-” she manages, just in time.</p><p>Macarena pulls her impossibly closer, their bodies moulding together into one, so close it’s impossible to tell where one starts and the other ends. </p><p>“Let go,” Maca whispers.<br/>
<br/>
Zulema does.</p><p>The brunette stops breathing and goes completely rigid against the younger woman for a few seconds, before she falls over the edge. Her hands grab hold of sheets and shoulders and every possible body part of Maca she can reach, while her hips keep moving to draw out her orgasm. </p><p>And maybe it’s because their bodies are so close together, or maybe it’s because Macarena is falling in love with the woman who’s currently wrapped around her. </p><p>Whatever the reason, it feels like Zulema’s pleasure is hers as well. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Maracena’s phone rings at 8am sharp the next morning to indicate that it’s time to get up.</p><p>The blonde groans inwardly at the idea of having to get up already. After Zulema’s body had calmed down enough, it didn’t take long for her fingers to find Macarena’s sweet spot. The brunette drew two orgasms from her before they ended things with a forty-minute makeout session, simply kissing, stroking over bare skin and reveling in the feeling of just <em> them. </em>Together like this. </p><p>The phone keeps ringing, and Maca rolls away from Zulema - they fell asleep separately but somehow always manage to find each other throughout the night - and reaches for the device on her nightstand, pressing the snooze button to turn it off. </p><p>Zulema grumbles something incomprehensible and puts one arm over her eyes in an attempt to block out some of the morning light. Macarena can’t help but smile at the sight and leans over to press a kiss to a still clothed shoulder, before she swings her legs over the edge of the bed.</p><p>Normally she isn’t so excited in the mornings, but today is her first day back at work in weeks. She’ll get to see Katia and work a 10am to 6pm shift to get used to things again. </p><p>She searches through one of the drawers in the corner of the room for an outfit to wear. This is something that’s changed as well; a couple of days ago, Maca came into Zulema’s bedroom to find one drawer slightly open and empty. It was a silly, but successful attempt at wordless communication, and Macarena’s clothes have now found a new home in the brunette’s closet. </p><p>“I hate your job,” it suddenly sounds from the bed. </p><p>Surprise crosses Macarena’s features for a second, but she catches herself. “Do you now,” she counters with a playful smile. “You didn’t seem to mind a few weeks ago.”</p><p>Zulema rolls over to her left side and manages to open her eyes long enough to see that the blonde is standing in front of the drawer in just underwear. That sight makes it easier to keep her eyes open.</p><p>“It’s just that,” she mumbles, her voice still rough from sleeping, “A few weeks ago you weren’t …”</p><p>Macarena chuckles at Zulema’s half-answer. “You can call me your girlfriend, you know.” She pulls a sweater over her head to keep herself warm while she picks an outfit for work. </p><p>“Shut up,” the brunette counters, but her voice doesn’t carry the slightest hint of anger. It’s … <em> playful</em>, almost. “I just don’t like the idea of you with other people.” </p><p>“It doesn’t mean anything with them,” Maca answers. “I only want you.”</p><p>That answer is unexpectedly soft, and Zulema needs a few seconds to formulate her own. Maca is first.</p><p>“Why don’t you like it?” she asks, despite knowing exactly why Zulema’s bringing this up. So she adds, “Are you jealous?”</p><p>The brunette presses her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She hates to admit it, but Macarena is right. Admitting it <em>out loud</em> is one step too far though, so she simply pulls the covers all the way up to her neck and mumbles something inaudible. </p><p>The blonde smiles and shakes her head, before she grabs the last items of clothing and heads for the guest room, where her bags and makeup are.</p><p> </p><p>They meet in the living room thirty minutes later. Zulema is preparing breakfast once again when Macarena walks in, wearing jeans and a top. A black see through top, to be exact, and it’s transparent enough to let Zulema know she’s only wearing a lace bralette underneath. </p><p>“That’s how you’re going out?” the brunette asks. She carefully shoves one bowl of yogurt towards Macarena, who’s standing on the other side of the kitchen island. </p><p>“Yes,” the blonde replies. “Why?”</p><p>“Aren’t you going to be cold?”</p><p>The blonde smiles at the concern. “No. I’m wearing a winter coat outside, and it’s warm in Libertad.” </p><p>Zulema raises her eyebrows. “If you say so.” Handing a spoon to Macarena, she takes her own bowl of yogurt and sits down on one of the bar stools. The blonde does the same, and they spend the most part of breakfast in silence, scrolling on their phones, until Zulema has to mention it again. </p><p>“Why can’t you just quit your job?” </p><p>Macarena rolls her eyes. “<em>Zulema,</em>” she says with her mouth full of strawberry yogurt. “I like my job. And I need the money.” </p><p>“I make enough for the both of us,” the brunette shrugs, not looking up from her phone. </p><p>“What would I do all day if I didn’t have a job to go to?” Macarena questions. When Zulema doesn’t answer, she reaches forward and waves her hand in front of the brunette’s phone screen. “Hey. We’re having a conversation.” </p><p>The older woman looks up, half annoyed and half uncomfortable. The subject is difficult, especially because she doesn’t know how to explain what she feels. It’s jealousy, definitely, but she also doesn’t want to take Macarena’s job from her. She just wants the younger woman to understand and reassure her, preferably without her specifically having to ask for it. </p><p>“I don’t know,” she answers to the blonde’s earlier question. “Find a new hobby. Enjoy life.” </p><p>“I enjoy what I’m doing right now,” Maca replies. She slides off the bar stool and rounds the kitchen island. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? I really have to go.” </p><p>Her empty bowl disappears into the sink and she turns around to face Zulema. The brunette is already looking at her. </p><p>Macarena really wants to show the other woman what last night meant to her, but she also doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Bringing it up probably won’t do any good, so she simply presses their lips together and lets the kiss linger just that much longer to make sure Zulema understands. When she pulls back, she finds that the look on the older woman’s face has gotten a little softer. </p><p>“Come pick me up from work if you want,” she whispers. “I’m done at six.”  </p><p><em> “Vale,</em>” Zulema replies. “Go, you’re gonna be late.” </p><p>Macarena nods and heads towards the hallway, where she slips into her coat before she walks back into the living room to get her bag. Throwing a last glance at the brunette, who’s already looking at her phone again.</p><p>“<em>Zule,</em>” the blonde says. The older woman’s eyes flicker up at the nickname, but she doesn’t say anything. “I …,” Macarena starts, but trails off when she realizes what she was about to say. She quickly turns it into something else. “I’ll see you.”</p><p>When she’s almost at the front door, Zulema’s voice stops her.</p><p>“Oh, Maca!” the brunette calls after her. The blonde turns around in the door opening and watches as Zulema makes her way over. “Yes?”</p><p>“Saray wants a double date. Tonight.”</p><p>“What?!” </p><p>Zulema reaches for the door handle and pulls the front door open for Macarena, making a <em> go away </em> motion with her hand. </p><p>“Yes. Tonight. <em> Adiós!”  </em></p><p>Macarena shakes her head at herself and walks out while Zulema shuts the door behind her. She’s still smiling by the time she walks out of the building, onto the busy streets of Madrid.</p><p><br/>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. drugs, dinner and desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have two things to say.<br/><strong>one</strong>: this chapter feels a little all over the place, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.<br/><strong>two</strong>: I did a final outline of this story. It was supposed to be sixteen chapters, but I've turned it into eighteen now. That means after this chapter, there'll be four more chapters before I wrap this story up. I know, I know. 😭 I just feel like I can't draw this out much longer, I'm already very grateful for the support I've gotten and the way this story has developed. I'm double posting somewhere this month, so the last chapter will be up on the first of January. I hope it'll be a great way to start the New Year!</p><p>anyway, let's get started. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ‘employees only’ door falls shut behind Macarena as she walks into Libertad for the first time in weeks. It feels nice to be back at the familiar place, but it’s strange at the same time. Her life outside this club has changed drastically, and there’s no way she’s not taking some of this with her inside. </p><p>Macarena finds Katia at her usual spot behind the bar, and the brunette pulls the blonde into a hug immediately. </p><p>“<em>Rubia! </em>It’s good to have you back.” </p><p>“I’m glad to be back, honestly,” Maca replies. “I missed this.” </p><p>Katia pulls two glasses from a shelf and fills them with water before practically shoving one into Macarena’s hands. She points towards the bar stools on the other side.</p><p>“Let’s sit. Tell me about everything.” </p><p>The two women sit down at the bar. The club is still closed and therefore empty, except for a handful of employees who are cleaning and setting everything up for a new day. Katia looks at her friend and notices that Macarena looks relaxed, happy. A lot better than a few weeks ago.</p><p>“So. What happened? You’ve never been gone for that long. And don’t say you were sick,” Katia adds. “because I won’t believe you.”</p><p>The blonde rolls her eyes with a smile on her face. She’s definitely a little nervous, but this woman in front of her has been her friend since she started working here, and although she’s kept the abuse secret for a very long time, she finds that she doesn’t want to hide it any longer. </p><p>“Okay,” Maca starts. “But I want you to let me finish. Despite everything you want to say.”</p><p>Katia agrees and Macarena tells her everything.</p><p>From the first time Miguel hit her, to Zulema noticing the bruises on her body. She tells Katia about Zulema’s reaction when she asked Maca to tell what was going on, and she doesn't leave out their first kiss here in Libertad. Then comes the most difficult part about that one specific night, where Miguel was in another horrible mood and she found herself standing in her ripped nightgown when the knocks on the door sounded. </p><p>Katia stays quiet like she promised, although her expression gets all soft when Macarena finally reaches the best part of the story and tells her friend that Zulema took her home. And that right now, with a little push and pull from both sides, they’re finally together. </p><p>“And tonight she’s picking me up from work,” Macarena finishes with a smile tugging at her lips. “So. That’s about it, I think.” </p><p>Katia opens her mouth to say something, but the words don’t come out. She pulls the blonde into a hug instead.</p><p>“I’m so happy for you, Maca,” Katia manages eventually. “And I’m sorry for not noticing anything before. I really am.” </p><p>The blonde shakes her head while pulling back. “No. You couldn’t have known," she promises. "And I didn’t want to tell you either.” </p><p>Katia agrees eventually. “What did Zulema say about you going back to work?” she asks.</p><p>“Ah,” Macarena laughs. “That’s quite something. She’s … jealous, to say the least.”</p><p>“I don’t blame her,” Katia responds, pretending to look the blonde up and down just like the guys here normally do. “You’re hot.”</p><p>The blonde laughs even harder and smacks her friend’s shoulder. “Shut up. I’m asking for <em> advice </em> here.” </p><p>“Okay, okay,” the other woman agrees. “Fine. I don’t know what she thinks, and I don’t know what you think, but you’ll have to talk.”</p><p>Macarena sighs. “Miguel never made a problem out of it. For the most part of our relationship, at least,” she adds. “I don’t want to quit my job, Katia, but I also don’t want to make Zulema feel like she has something to worry about.” </p><p>“You could work less,” Katia suggests, shrugging. “We have enough girls around here. Make a compromise with Zulema, say that you’ll work three days a week instead of five or six. And if you want, you could think about changing your tasks.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Macarena frowns.</p><p>“Just do the pole dance shows,” Katia answers. “Lapdances, stuff like that. But no real sex anymore. Maybe that’ll make things easier between you two.” </p><p>Macarena tilts her head, considering. The proposal isn’t bad. Maca especially loves the dancing part of her job, and she doesn’t want to give that up. This way, she could keep doing the dance shows and lapdances, but won’t have to do much more than that.</p><p>“That could work,” she answers. “I’ll talk to her.” </p><p>Katia smiles in response. “You should. I’ve never seen you this happy, Maca.”</p><p>The blonde blushes. She doesn’t know what to say. </p><p>Either way, she does feel happier than ever. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“They’re in batches of twenty five,” Zulema hands a small plastic bag to Matías, one of the younger guys selling for her. “You know what to do.” </p><p>He takes it without hesitation. When the brunette doesn’t move, he tilts his head. <em> “Y el mío?” </em></p><p>Zulema stares at him for a few seconds before she reaches into the pocket inside her jacket for another small bag. Matías holds out his hand and is just about to grab it when Zulema pulls back again. </p><p>“Dealers don’t consume,” she states. “Real ones. So if you ever want to be a professional and run your own cartel, you have to stop this.” </p><p>He looks guilty when Zulema hands him the smaller package. <em> Good, </em> the older woman thinks. The package disappears into his pocket and Zulema’s eyes follow the movement. </p><p>“Have you already solved the problem with Ramirez?” Matías asks her. “A lot of people around here are talking shit and no one knows what’s true and what’s not.”</p><p>Zulema’s eyes flicker upwards. “No. I haven’t,” she replies. “The ex-boyfriend of one of my friends works for Ramirez, and they’re threatening us now.” </p><p>Matías shrugs. “Can’t you just set him up? Make Ramirez think the boyfriend works for us.”</p><p>“Ex-boyfriend,” Zulema corrects absentmindedly. Her thoughts are running and her eyes fall onto Matias’ jacket again.</p><p>
  <em> The pocket. Miguel’s jacket. Macarena still has a key. </em>
</p><p>“I have to go,” she suddenly says, turning away from Matías and towards her car. <em> “Hasta luego.”  </em></p><p>The younger man watches her go with a frown. Has he said something wrong?</p><p>It turns out to be quite the opposite. As Zulema aimlessly drives around the city for almost an hour, just because it helps her think, she comes up with a plan. </p><p><em> Setting Miguel up wouldn’t be such a bad idea, </em> she realizes. <em> Make Ramirez believe he’s working for us. If I’m able to prove it, Ramirez will respect me again, and Miguel won’t bother us anymore. But how can I get both Ramirez and Miguel to meet up with me? And more importantly, how are </em> <b> <em>my</em> </b> <em> drugs going to end up in Miguel’s possession? </em></p><p>It takes her two instrumental songs to come up with the answer.</p><p>Macarena. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She meets the blonde outside of Libertad at six, like she promised. Casually leaning against the car, she’s just finishing her cigarette, when her eyes fall on Macarena. The younger woman is walking towards her in her long grey coat and high heels, and she looks stunning. </p><p>Zulema drops her cigarette onto the concrete and uses her platform boots to put it out just in time before Maca arrives and stops in front of her. The blonde’s hands are quick to find Zulema’s waist. “Hi,” she says, a little unsure. Zulema can be unpredictable sometimes. </p><p>“How was work?” the brunette asks. </p><p>Maca notices the jealousy in Zulema’s voice, but she appreciates the brunette asking despite her disapproval.</p><p>“Good.” She presses their lips together in what’s meant to be a quick kiss, but when she tries to pull back, Zulema pulls her against her even tighter. Macarena has to bite back a moan at the immediate sensations rushing through her body. “Zulema,” she whispers, already pulling back again. “We’re in public.”</p><p>The brunette raises an eyebrow. “So?” </p><p>“I just,” Macarena tries. “I didn’t think you’d be the person to show affection in public.”</p><p>“Maybe you don’t know me well enough then,” Zulema counters. </p><p>The blonde squints her eyes, unable to decide whether this is an insult or a challenge. She settles on something in between and gives her answer accordingly. </p><p>“And if I tell you that I used to dread the end of my shift because I had to go back to Miguel, but now I love it because I’m going back to you?”</p><p>Zulema rolls her eyes before giving her a <em> fuck you </em> stare and prying the blonde’s hands off her waist.</p><p>“Don’t get all soft in public.” </p><p>The response draws a laugh from Macarena. “See? I told you. <em> Te conozco, Zulema.</em>” </p><p>Zulema refuses to respond to that. She opens her door and slides into the driver’s seat instead. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Macarena knows she looks good tonight. Really good. And she’s determined to get some kind of reaction out of Zulema.</p><p>She’s in the middle of applying her eyeliner and mascara in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom, while Zulema is getting ready in her own bathroom. Neither one knows what the other is going to wear, and it only adds to the excitement.</p><p><em> It’s just dinner with Saray, </em> the older woman had said when Macarena disappeared into the guest room. <em> You don’t have to look like you’re going to a fashion show. Casually chic is fine.  </em></p><p>The dress Maca is wearing right now should work perfectly then. It has a deep red color, like the lingerie set she wore when she first met Zulema. It’s not too tight and hugs her curves the right way, while the long sleeves keep her warm. She’s wearing black tights underneath the dress, because it’s almost winter after all, and decides on wearing a small necklace as an accessory. </p><p>In the other bathroom, Zulema looks in the mirror one last time before turning away. Her outfit can’t be that surprising; a black tailored suit covers her body, and a white blouse is just visible underneath the blazer. She’s excited for tonight. Mostly because she gets to spend time with her best friend <em> and </em>girlfriend, but also partly because she can’t wait to see Macarena all dressed up. </p><p>The brunette takes her phone from where it was charging on her nightstand and takes a pair of black sneakers from her closet - there’s no way she can wear her platform boots with this outfit - and slips into them before walking into the hallway.</p><p>“Maca,” she calls, accompanied by three consecutive knocks on the door of the guest room. “We have to go.” </p><p>
  <em> “Ya voy!”  </em>
</p><p>Zulema grabs their coats from the hallway and puts them, along with Macarena’s purse and her own car keys, on the kitchen counter. It’s then that the blonde walks in. </p><p>The brunette has to work really hard to suppress a physical response to Maca’s outfit. And it seems the blonde likes Zulema’s outfit too, because her eyes look everywhere but Zulema's face while she walks into the kitchen. </p><p>"That dress is ...," Zulema starts, but she’s too distracted by the absolute beauty that is her girlfriend. </p><p>"What?" Macarena smiles. </p><p>"Coming off later." </p><p>Maca’s smile turns into a bright laugh. “I take it you like my outfit, then?” She does a little spin to show off her body and legs, and Zulema bites her lip. <em> Fuck. </em></p><p>“Yeah,” the brunette agrees. “You look good.” </p><p>The younger woman closes the remaining distance between them and wraps her arms around Zulema’s neck. “Just good?” she teases. Zulema’s eyes flash dangerously and before Maca knows it, her back is against the counter and their lips are pressed together.</p><p>“Fucking hot,” Zulema corrects.  </p><p>“That’s better." </p><p>They quickly get lost in each other. Their kisses become more heated and Zulema’s hand slides around Maca’s body to cup her ass and pull the smaller woman flush against her. </p><p>“Zulema,” the blonde immediately protests, breaking their kiss. “If we actually want to make it to dinner, we should go now.”</p><p>The brunette groans in dissatisfaction, but steps back. Macarena is right. “I can’t be held responsible when you look like <em> this</em>," she defends herself. She gives the blonde a gentle nudge towards the front door, reaching for her car keys and their jackets on the counter. </p><p>“<em>Vale. Venga.”  </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Saray and her girlfriend are already sitting at the table when they arrive. Quick kisses and hugs are exchanged before the four women make themselves comfortable and a waitress comes by to take their orders. </p><p>Maya asks about Macarena’s life and her job. Saray makes Zulema laugh by telling her some things only the two of them understand, and Macarena beams with happiness at the sound of her girlfriend’s laugh. She also learns about Saray’s girlfriend, and finds out that she’s an architect. </p><p>“How did you meet Saray?” Macarena wonders. “You’re from two different worlds, almost.” </p><p>“We met in a club and she took me home,” Maya explains. “It was meant to be a one time thing, but …,” she shares a look with Saray. “I fell in love with her.”</p><p>Macarena gives Zulema a nudge. “Sounds like someone else I know,” she smiles. The brunette throws her a semi-annoyed look in response. </p><p>“And what do you think about the whole drug thing?” Macarena asks. “I mean, I know it’s their job,” she motions between Zulema and Saray. “But it’s difficult.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Maya agrees. “Saray told me right away though. And of course I don’t like it, but I just love her. Whatever she does.” </p><p>“Oh I know,” Saray interrupts, “I’m pretty damn irresistible.” She leans over to kiss her girlfriend on the lips. </p><p>Halfway through the main course, Macarena has the audacity to rest her hand on Zulema’s leg and slide it up very slowly, not noticeable to anyone but them. The brunette flushes and throws her girlfriend a look, to which Macarena flashes an innocent smile in response. It's just a test to see how much of her teasing the brunette can take, and it works. </p><p>When the blonde doesn’t seem to be stopping her movements anytime soon, Zulema leans over and manages to keep her face somewhat neutral while she whispers in Maca’s ear.</p><p>“If you don’t take your hand off my leg right now, you’re in trouble.” </p><p>Macarena turns her head so they’re face to face. “Hm,” she mumbles softly, “Maybe that’s what I’m going for.”  </p><p>The tension between the two women doesn’t go unnoticed by Saray and her girlfriend, but Saray - being the annoying best friend she is - decides to interrupt. </p><p>“<em>Oye, Zule,” </em> Saray mentions. “What are you two doing for Christmas?” </p><p>The older woman turns away from Macarena and shoves the hand from her leg as well, ignoring Maca’s pout. “I don’t know yet. We haven’t talked about it,” she replies. </p><p>“We could spend Christmas Eve together?” Saray suggests. “You and Maca can stay over, and we’ll do presents in the morning? Like old times.” </p><p>Now, Maya is the one to interrupt. “Saray, let them be. This is their first Christmas Eve together. They can come over the day after.” </p><p>Saray takes a moment before she starts to laugh. “Remember what we were like during our first Christmas night? I don’t think we even slept.” She kisses Maya’s cheek, a smile still tugging at her lips.</p><p>Both Zulema and Macarena look at each other; Zulema realizes this’ll be the first Christmas she’ll spend with someone other than Saray, and Maca realizes this’ll be her first Christmas in years without Miguel. It feels strange, and the messages he keeps sending her don’t do anything to reduce her feelings of guilt. But then, Zulema’s arm finds its way around her shoulders, almost as if she senses that something’s wrong, and the guilt disappears again. This is where she’s supposed to be, Macarena reminds herself. </p><p>In the time between their main course and dessert, Zulema and Maya go for a smoke break. Macarena sees this as the perfect opportunity to talk to Saray. </p><p>“How did you actually meet Zulema?” is her first question, when she realizes she doesn’t even know. Saray sits back and crosses her legs underneath the table, getting comfortable.</p><p>“I was a bartender in a cafe nearby. Zulema was a regular. She was always by herself, so I talked to her from time to time. We became really good friends, and she eventually invited me over to her apartment,” Saray explains. “There, she told me about what she did. I immediately wanted to join. Working in that cafe was complete shit anyway.”</p><p>Macarena nods. “Yeah. I can imagine.”</p><p>“When I met Zulema, she was …,” Saray throws a quick glance at the door, as if making sure the brunette really isn’t here. “She was lost. It was her fourth apartment in a year. She was skinny- well, she still is,” Saray laughs and Macarena follows. “But she looked like a fucking ghost.” </p><p>The blonde thinks back of the first time she met Zulema in Libertad. Sure, the brunette was uncomfortable and tense, but Maca had blamed it on the situation and not on Zulema as a person. Apparently, she was wrong.</p><p>“And now?” she asks. She <em> knows, </em> but she needs to hear it.</p><p>“Now?” Saray repeats the question. “Zulema hasn’t been this happy and relaxed since I met her. It’s because of you, Maca. And I must admit that I kind of hate you for it, because I was never able to make her feel <em> that </em> good, but I’m glad she’s better now.” </p><p>“Hey,” Macarena protests. “You should see how she looks at you. She’s relaxed with you too, Saray. She’s made it this far because of you. I heard you were the one who convinced her to go to Libertad.” </p><p>The brunette nods. “Yeah. That’s me.”</p><p>“Then you’re indirectly the reason why I’m sitting here instead of being at home with my abusive boyfriend. You’re the reason why Zulema is my girlfriend now.”</p><p>“<em>Rubia,” </em>Saray sighs, sounding content. “I don’t want to take credit for that. I’m just glad Zulema’s happy.”</p><p>Macarena glances at the door and decides there’s still time. </p><p>“Can you help me out with something, then? I don’t know what to get Zulema for Christmas.” </p><p>Saray falls silent at the sudden change of topic, thinking hard. “Alright,” she says, “uh, nothing big or expensive. She doesn’t like that. I'm sure she'll spoil you, though."</p><p>Macarena shakes her head with a smile. "Please. I'm really asking."</p><p>"Hm," Saray considers everything she knows about her best friend. "She likes scorpions."</p><p>The blonde raises her eyebrows. "I'm not getting her a <em> scorpion </em>. I live there too."</p><p>Now it's Saray's turn to laugh. "Yeah, I figured. But you could see if there's anything with a scorpion on it. No jewelry, though," she adds.</p><p>"Not at all?"</p><p>"The silly kind, I mean," Saray explains. “Chains are fine, but no <em> feminine </em> things. And I know you're that type of girl, so..."</p><p>Macarena's mouth falls open. "Hey!"</p><p>Of course, Zulema and Maya come back at that exact moment, and Saray immediately receives a punch to her shoulder from Zulema. “Don’t mess with her,” the older woman warns. She looks at her girlfriend, but that one is laughing out loud while Saray rubs her sore arm. </p><p>“<em>Joder, puta. </em> I didn’t do anything,” the <em> gitana </em>defends herself, throwing a look at Zulema. The older woman sits back down next to Macarena, who finally manages to stop laughing for long enough to help Saray out.</p><p>“She really didn’t do anything, Zule,” Maca tells her. “We were just talking.” </p><p>“Hm,” Zulema looks at her best friend. “I’m not sorry.” </p><p>All four of them burst into laughter, even Saray. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema decides that their car ride on the way home is a good time to talk about Miguel. It’s silent between them, aside from the radio softly playing in the background.</p><p>“<em>Oye</em>, Maca,” Zulema starts. She keeps her eyes trained on the road, although the blonde turns her head to look at her. “I need your help with something. It involves Miguel.”</p><p>Although she’s not looking at the younger woman, she senses how Macarena’s body goes rigid at his name. The subject is difficult to talk about, Zulema knows that, but this needs to be done in order to solve everything.</p><p>“What is it?” the blonde manages.</p><p>“I need to make Ramirez think that Miguel works for me," Zulema explains. "I think I know how, but it means that we have to go back to your apartment.” </p><p>“His apartment,” Macarena interrupts. “I don’t want anything to do with him anymore.” </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>The blonde takes a deep breath to prepare herself for the conversation. This is not exactly how she wanted to end dinner. “Alright, what’s your plan?” </p><p>“I want us to go to you-<em> his </em>apartment,” Zulema catches herself. “You can say you forgot something. Then I’ll distract him, and I need you to put a small plastic bag somewhere in his clothes. Does he have a jacket he wears often?” </p><p>Macarena thinks. “Yeah, he only has one jacket. And he doesn’t use the pockets.” </p><p>“Perfect.” </p><p>“What are you up to, Zulema?”</p><p>The brunette shakes her head, while she uses her blinker to indicate that she’s about to turn right. “I don’t have everything figured out just yet. Once I do, I’ll tell you. I promise."</p><p>“Is Miguel going to get hurt?” Maca asks. She has to know.</p><p>Zulema sighs. “I don’t know," she answers. There’s a significant chance he will get injured, because Ramirez is unpredictable and apparently not very nice to his enemies. She has firsthand experience. “Do you care?” </p><p>Now it’s Macarena’s turn to go silent. The question catches her off guard, mostly because she genuinely can’t come up with a quick answer. She looks at the road and the evening lights and back at Zulema again. Her <em> girlfriend.  </em></p><p>“I don’t think I do.” Macarena even surprises herself with this. She looks at Zulema for reassurance. “Is that wrong?” </p><p>“Considering what he’s done to you?” Zulema’s voice immediately goes angry. “No.” </p><p>The blonde knows she needs some time to process. Her own feelings, but also the fact that she’s going to help Zulema with this. She’s never gotten into trouble, and this definitely feels like it. </p><p>The two drive in silence for a few minutes; Zulema focused on the cars in front of her, Macarena lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, while she’s going through the events that happened today, the blonde remembers something Katia said earlier. She immediately knows it’ll be the perfect way to distract the both of them from the thoughts running through their heads. And to be honest, Zulema’s outfit isn’t helping either. </p><p>“Katia asked about you today,” Maca mentions.</p><p>“Ah,” Zulema chuckles. “What did you tell her?” </p><p>“Everything,” she answers. When the brunette goes to protest, Macarena corrects herself. “Well- not <em> everything. </em>Just about my situation with Miguel, how you got me away from there and that I’m now living with you.”</p><p>“And what did she say?”</p><p>“She said she knew from the moment you first laid your eyes on me.”</p><p>Zulema chuckles. “Sure.”</p><p>Macarena lets the silence linger for a few more seconds, before she says what she really wanted to say. Maybe the moment isn’t perfect, but she could definitely use the distraction. </p><p>“She also asked to invite you to our pole dance show this weekend.” </p><p>That draws Zulema’s attention. </p><p>“Your what now?”</p><p>“We’re doing a pole dance show on the main stage,” Macarena says, turning her body towards Zulema. One hand reaches out and finds Zulema’s upper leg again, just like she did during dinner. “You can see me dance in nothing more than black lingerie. We’ve been rehearsing, and the choreography is very … sensual.” </p><p>“Maca,” Zulema warns. </p><p>“What?” the blonde answers, acting completely innocent. “Am I distracting you?” </p><p>
  <em> With the image of you in black lingerie, dancing around a pole? Yes. </em>
</p><p>“Not at all.” </p><p>Macarena smiles. This is Zulema’s way of saying yes. She strokes over the inside of the brunette’s thigh, who tenses at the movement. </p><p>“Unless you want me to crash this car, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.” </p><p>Macarena deliberately disobeys and leans over the gear shift; she presses a kiss to the skin just below Zulema’s ear, before biting down on her ear lobe. </p><p>“I can’t keep my hands to myself when you look this good.” </p><p>The brunette’s breath hitches at these words, and Macarena smiles softly. Zulema always says that the blonde is the easy one between the two of them, but she’s just as easy herself. You just have to know what turns her on. </p><p>Macarena does.</p><p>She slowly slides her hand up Zulema’s leg, feeling the muscles tense under her fingers, while her tongue glides down the brunette’s neck. </p><p>“<em>Maca</em>.” </p><p>The plea sounds breathy and submissive, nothing like Zulema. The blonde loves it, and decides to add a little more fuel to the fire. </p><p>“Why don’t you pull over and take me in the backseat?” she whispers. </p><p>Zulema manages to switch lanes without causing an accident, and quickly turns her head to give the blonde a rough kiss on her lips. “If you keep going like this, I might just have to do that.” </p><p>“Hm,” Macarena decides. “I’ll stop then.”</p><p>Zulema’s mouth falls open when the blonde does exactly that and pulls back, crossing one leg over the other and resting her hands in her own lap. </p><p>“<em>Qué haces?” </em>the brunette protests. </p><p>“What?” Macarena smiles innocently. She’s good at that. “You wanted me to stop.”</p><p>Zulema clenches her jaw and tries to focus on the road again. She <em> hates </em> being teased if she’s not getting anything out of it immediately. </p><p>“You’ll pay for this later,” Zulema states. It’s a promise, the blonde can tell by the way her girlfriend's voice goes deep and serious. </p><p>It's what exactly what Macarena was going for. </p><p>“Alright.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. show me (that you're mine)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don’t read this at school, at work, or anywhere else in public. Literally anywhere with people around you. I’m not kidding. </p><p>Songs in this chapter in chronological order:<br/>- Escalate by Tsar B<br/>- Stand Still by Sabrina Claudio<br/>- Amandine insensible by Sevdaliza<br/>- Continuum by Tanerélle</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Macarena uses Katia’s advice to help them find a middle ground, and she succeeds. Zulema agrees to Maca’s proposal of only working three days a week and little to no sex with others, although the brunette still doesn’t like the idea of her girlfriend going back there. </p><p>
  <em> “I just want to be me again,” Macarena tells Zulema. “Not that I’m not myself around you, not at all,” she added, “but I want to dance, be confident, feel free. I want to prove to myself that he didn’t take that from me.”  </em>
</p><p>Zulema didn’t protest anymore after that. She secretly admires the blonde.</p><p>The rest of the week has passed quickly. Somehow it's already Saturday and they're now in the car on their way to Maca’s pole dance show. Zulema is driving, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on Macarena’s thigh. Already claiming her.</p><p>The brunette is excited, to say the least. It’s been a while since she’s been to Libertad, and even longer since she’s seen Macarena dancing. That’s definitely a weakness of hers. </p><p>But there’s something else she has to do first.</p><p>“<em>Rubia</em>,” Zulema starts, “I’m not coming inside with you right away. I have to do something.” </p><p>Macarena turns her head towards her girlfriend. “What?” </p><p>“I can’t tell you yet.” </p><p>The blonde rolls her eyes. Her lips form a straight line, her tell-tale sign of annoyance. “Work?” she questions.</p><p>Zulema nods, but doesn’t elaborate.</p><p>“Don’t start with this bullshit, then,” Macarena counters. “I already know everything about your job. And there's still things you don't want to share with me?”</p><p>"You're really trying to start a fight over this?" Zulema pulls her hand back from Macarena’s thigh. </p><p>"Yes," the blonde responds. Her eyes don’t leave Zulema, who keeps her eyes trained on the road. </p><p>"Don't worry about me," the brunette tries to reassure her. “It’s nothing.” </p><p>"Yeah, sure,” Macarena replies. “I'll just worry when you're dead." </p><p>Zulema sighs. </p><p>“Maca.”</p><p>No response.</p><p>"Maca. Oh come on. <em>Macarena</em>."</p><p>Still no response. The blonde stares out the window on her right hand side to avoid Zulema’s gaze. Until the hand on her thigh reappears, stroking over her denim jeans in an attempt to get her attention and comfort her at the same time. She can’t deny her girlfriend any longer and Macarena makes eye contact again, although Zulema has to alternate between looking at her and the cars in front of her. </p><p>“I’m not getting into trouble. I just have to call Ramirez,” the brunette finally confesses. “To set things in motion. We’ll have to see Miguel soon.” </p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>Macarena’s face falls. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. </p><p>“Fine,” she mumbles. Her hand reaches for her bag that’s standing in between her legs on the floor and pulls her phone out in an attempt to distract herself. </p><p>“It’s going to be fine,” Zulema reassures her. The hand that was on her thigh comes up to cup Macarena’s cheek, an unexpectedly soft movement coming from the brunette, and Maca turns her head again. “I’ll find a way,” Zulema adds. “I always do.” </p><p>A little cocky, a lot of confidence. Her hand is still on the blonde’s cheek and Macarena smiles.</p><p>She has the sudden urge to say I love you. </p><p>“I know you will,” she replies instead. </p><p>They arrive at Libertad five minutes later and Macarena already feels the beginnings of the adrenaline rush that comes with performing. She’s excited. </p><p>“Go. I’ll be right there,” Zulema says, motioning for the blonde to get out of the car. </p><p>“Vale,” Macarena leans over and kisses her girlfriend’s cheek before opening the car door and slipping out, bag in her hand. “See you soon.” </p><p>Once Macarena is gone, Zulema pulls her phone out of its holder and takes a breath. </p><p>Here goes nothing.</p><p>Ramirez picks up on the fourth ring and the time that takes does absolutely nothing to calm the brunette’s racing heart. She greets him nicely, but he doesn’t seem to have time for it.</p><p>“What do you want?” </p><p>
  <em> Fine, if that’s how you want to play it.  </em>
</p><p>“You said Miguel is working for you, right?” Zulema asks. </p><p>“Yes,” Ramirez’s answer is quick. “He’s been with me for a couple of years. What about it?”</p><p>“Then why is he selling my drugs?”</p><p>Silence. </p><p>The fact that Ramirez has absolutely nothing to say to this, makes Zulema grin. </p><p>“What the fuck are you saying?” he manages eventually. He tries to sound angry, but the brunette hears right through it. He’s confused, a little scared even. </p><p>“He sells for me,” Zulema repeats. Anything to make her point very clear, to make him believe her. “He’s fucking you over, Ramirez.” </p><p>More silence on the other side of the line. Zulema knows that now is the time to push through. </p><p>“So I have a proposition for you.” The brunette forces herself to sound steady, confident. “If I give you proof, you promise me that all of this will be over. No more rivalry. No more killings,” she adds. </p><p>Finally, he seems to have found his voice again. </p><p>“How are you going to prove this?” </p><p>“I’ll meet up with you and him,” Zulema explains. “I’ll show you that I’m right. Consider it a business deal. I prove that one of yours is fucking you over, you leave me alone. <em> Vale?”  </em></p><p>“Text me when and where.”</p><p>He disconnects. </p><p>She’s won this battle. Now she has to win the war.  </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The first song sounds like one you’d use in a thriller movie. Quiet, unpredictable, with just the sound of a bass every few seconds and a strange voice in the background. </p><p>For today’s show, the red velvet sofas that are usually standing against the walls have been moved to the middle of the room, so everyone has a good view of the main stage. The small platforms randomly distributed throughout the club are still there, so those sitting in the back will have girls dancing on those platforms close to them anyway.</p><p>Zulema’s sitting on one of the sofas closest to the stage, obviously. She’s glad they were early, because the club is absolutely packed by now. </p><p>Twenty five seconds into the song, the curtains open and soft white lights light up the stage. Ten girls stand in a perfect line from left to right, each with their own pole. Black lace bralettes, thigh high stockings attached to matching black underwear with garter belts. Black heels cover their feet, making their legs look just that much better.</p><p>
  <em> You </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You thought that you were stronger </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’re like a glue  </em>
</p><p>All the girls wrap their right hand around the pole next to them and start walking around it, perfectly in sync. </p><p>
  <em> No one ever, no one ever proved </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That you can claim a whole lot more than I </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No one ever, no one ever  </em>
</p><p>They walk two rounds before they face the audience again. The voice fades out and so do the lights, drowning the club in darkness for five agonizingly long seconds. </p><p>A soft humming voice introduces the next song. The vibe changes, the lights on the stage turn a deep red. The real show is about to start. </p><p>
  <em> Time stands still </em>
</p><p>
  <em> While we stand here </em>
</p><p>Zulema’s eyes search for Macarena. She finds her standing in the middle with another blonde girl. All their outfits are the exact same, all the women are gorgeous. But no one does to her what Macarena does. Zulema’s entire body feels hot just from looking at her and she starts to bounce her leg, desire and arousal and undeniable want running through her veins. </p><p>
  <em> Don’t wanna fight you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I need the same as you  </em>
</p><p>The girls sensually move around the poles, rolling their hips, throwing their head backwards, flexing their muscles by pulling themselves up and sliding down. The music highlights the last words of each sentence by echoing them, and the lights flicker to the beat of the music. </p><p>
  <em> I want lust too </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want love too  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want this too </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want in you  </em>
</p><p>A few individual piano notes are mixed with the current song playing and this seems to be some sort of cue for the girls, because they quickly separate and a few of them make their way into the club, heading for the small platforms.</p><p>Macarena doesn’t. She remains on stage with only four others now and she’s suddenly much closer to Zulema. Because they’re now sharing ten poles between five of them, they leave one empty in between each girl, and Maca has switched to the pole right in front of her girlfriend. Their eyes meet right when the next song fades into the still playing one. The brunette lets her eyes slide down the blonde’s neck, breast and bare stomach, where her muscles are faintly visible underneath the skin. Further down Zulema’s eyes go, noticing how thin the garter belt straps are and how she’d love to rip them with her hands, before going over the stockings and <em> those fucking legs</em>.</p><p>Macarena, on the other hand, knows exactly what she’s doing to Zulema. She notices how her girlfriend shifts in her seat and her eyes don’t leave her for one second. The last time she did a pole dance show, it was only Zulema’s third time here in Libertad, and they were suppressing the mutual attraction. Now, they don’t have to hide anything anymore.</p><p>
  <em> There’s a woman, she’s every fantasy </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And no reality in one </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s some gravity pullin’ her essence down </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s a remedy, for them motherfuckers around  </em>
</p><p>Macarena flashes the brunette a cheeky smile before finally breaking eye contact to continue her dance. Zulema watches her as she slides down to the floor, before she sensually curls herself around the pole and uses her strong arms to pull herself up again. The brunette has never realized how strong Maca must be to do all of this, but as she watches the muscles in her girlfriend’s upper arms and shoulders flex, she can't help but lick her lips.</p><p>She wants Macarena and she wants her now. </p><p>All for herself. </p><p>
  <em>Mine.</em>
</p><p>The girls switch places and suddenly Macarena is gone, all the way towards the other side of the stage, and Zulema clenches her jaw when she sees other people looking at the blonde. Her girlfriend. </p><p>The girl who’s now standing in front of her is a good dancer as well, and she has gorgeous long hair and a pretty face, but no one will ever be able to compare to Macarena.</p><p>Luckily, they switch back after a few more minutes, and the blonde is in front of her again. Just in time for the best and final song. </p><p>It starts off as an acapella song, only accompanied by soft background noise. But then the beat drops, and so does Macarena. </p><p>Onto her knees next to the pole, both hands wrapped around it, and she rolls her hips while throwing her head back. </p><p>
  <em> You grab me there your fingers sink </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We breathe, we tense, no time to think </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I take you ‘til you’re on the brink </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Then we dive off the edge in sync  </em>
</p><p>The lyrics echo in Zulema’s mind. She knows that there’s no way she will ever forget about this moment, not for as long as she lives. And this will be her favorite song from now on. </p><p>
  <em> You give me you, I give you me </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We take our time because we’re free </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You say that I’m a sight to see </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I say that you’re a masterpiece  </em>
</p><p>Macarena purposely bends over while she stands back up, throwing a wink at her girlfriend before she and the rest of the girls on stage turn around with their backs towards the audience. They start swinging their hips from side to side, the black lace underwear accentuating their curves perfectly. </p><p>Zulema nearly loses it at the sight. And then completely loses it at the words of the chorus, accompanying their movements. </p><p>
  <em> Make love, fuck </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lick me up </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Petals, pluck </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Drive me, clutch  </em>
</p><p>The song is slowly coming to an end. The bass is the only thing drawing it out, along with the acapella sounds the song started with. The girls on stage turn back towards the audience and take their own pose; Macarena casually leans against the pole, one hand wrapped around it and the other resting on her hip. </p><p>The lights slowly dim until a soft red light is the only thing still visible, along with the silhouettes of the girls. A few seconds of blissful silence follow, before every single person in the room starts to clap, whistle and shout, expressing their appreciation. </p><p>Not Zulema. She remains seated, dark eyes locked with Macarena, until the lights fully dim and the curtains close. </p><p>Everyone slowly resumes the conversations they were having before the show and the regular music starts playing in the club again. The first people start to get drinks, and some already leave with girls that were standing on the platforms. Zulema decides to wait. Macarena will find her when she’s done. </p><p>It only takes three minutes for the blonde to walk into the club from the backstage changing rooms. A few of the girls were cleaning up and told her to go, because everyone knows that Maca is with Zulema by now. </p><p>She finds herself in front of the brunette in her stage outfit with her heels still on, and the look in her girlfriend’s eyes makes her shiver. Zulema reaches out for her hand and Macarena takes it without hesitation, only to be pulled onto her lap. </p><p>Knees resting on the couch on either side of Zulema, she rests her arms on the brunette’s shoulders, looking into her eyes. </p><p>And then, Zulema kisses her.</p><p>In this fully packed club, in front of everyone. Her hands wrap around Macarena’s hips to pull her even closer against her. </p><p>“When is your shift over?” Zulema questions. </p><p>“Now,” Macarena decides. “I’m all yours.” </p><p>Zulema doesn’t need to hear that twice. She motions for the blonde to get up and they make their way through the club, through the back door and up the stairs, towards their old room. Room 105. Look where that got them. </p><p>They stumble inside, lips already pressed together, and Macarena somehow manages to close the door behind them while Zulema pushes her further inside and towards the bed. “You looked really fucking good,” the brunette mumbles into their kiss. “But I want this off now.” </p><p>Their lips don’t part while Maca reaches behind her back to undo her bralette and lets it fall to the floor. Zulema’s fingers tug at the garter belt straps and they feel just as thin as they looked, so she does what she’s been wanting to. </p><p>She tears them. With her hands. </p><p>Macarena doesn’t protest. She moans instead, a soft, surprised moan that only serves to turn Zulema on even more. The blonde’s back collides with the mattress and the brunette is on top of her immediately, pulling on her underwear. Maca lifts her hips and lets her girlfriend pull the piece of clothing off along with the garter belt, over the stockings and heels she’s still wearing. Zulema pulls the heels off as well, but leaves the stockings. They look fucking sexy anyway. </p><p>The brunette is burning with desire for the woman in front of her. But they’ve never been <em> rough, </em>and she doesn’t know if this is the right time and place for it. Macarena notices her hesitation immediately. </p><p>“Why are you holding back?”</p><p>The brunette looks up while her hand runs down her girlfriend’s neck, chest and stomach, until it comes to rest on her thigh. “I don’t know if I can be gentle,” Zulema confesses, her eyes never leaving Maca’s.</p><p>“Maybe I don’t want you to be.” </p><p>Zulema’s eyes flash dangerously. The blonde finds herself pressed against the mattress not many seconds later, with the older woman’s hands wrapped around her throat.</p><p>“Say that again?” the brunette demands. </p><p>Maca’s lips part when she feels Zulema’s fingers pressing down on the sides of her neck and she shifts her hips, trying to fight the undeniable arousal between her legs. </p><p>“I don’t want you to be gentle.”</p><p>Now it’s Zulema’s turn to fight the rush of arousal. She sits back on Maca’s legs and pulls her sweater over her head, shirt following immediately after. But the blonde is fast, and she somehow manages to slide her legs from underneath Zulema and begin the process of unbuttoning her pants. The brunette lets her, but once she manages to get them off, her gaze goes dangerous again.</p><p>“Turn around. Face the wall.” </p><p>Macarena takes a shaky breath before she does what she’s told and faces the wall, hands wrapping around the headboard to steady herself. She feels her girlfriend slide behind her and then press against her, almost skin on skin, except for Zulema’s underwear and bra. </p><p>The brunette’s fingers find blonde locks and pull them to one side to expose her neck. She presses a kiss to the skin there and her tongue trails up to Maca’s ear. </p><p>“You know you’re safe with me, right?” </p><p>Even now, in moments heavily loaded with arousal like this one, the brunette takes a second to check on her. Maca turns her head just enough to meet dark green eyes, now almost entirely black with desire. </p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Zulema briefly smiles back. </p><p>“Good.” </p><p>She waits until the blonde’s eyes are focused on the wall again, before she starts exploring the naked body in front of her. Both hands find Macarena’s hips and trail upwards and to the front, cupping both breasts and finally pulling her flush against her. Maca’s back against her front, Zulema slides one of her hands down and finds exactly what she expected.</p><p>“You’re fucking wet, <em> rubia,</em>” she mentions.</p><p>“I’ve been like this since I stepped on stage,” Macarena replies. “I’m surprised no one noticed.” </p><p>“They better not look at you like that,” Zulema’s voice is low. “You’re mine. And I don’t share.” </p><p>Macarena doesn’t care about her girlfriend’s words. Doesn’t care about anything. All she wants is Zulema inside of her, right now.</p><p>“Please,” she breathes. “Fuck me. I need you.” </p><p>The brunette slides her fingers through Macarena’s wetness, coating them, and finally positioning them. She’s not going to be gentle. They both know it. </p><p>However, that knowledge isn’t enough to prepare Maca for the sensation she feels when Zulema slides inside of her with two fingers, pulling out and then pressing inside even deeper, because she’s <em> that </em> wet. </p><p>“Fuck!” the blonde cries out. “Yes!” </p><p>Zulema grins. "Yes? Is this what you wanted?" </p><p>Macarena tries to reply. She really does, but she can’t. Everything is too overwhelming. </p><p>"You were just provoking me out there, weren't you?” Zulema husks into her ear. “This is <em> exactly </em> what you wanted." </p><p>Her free hand slides over Macarena’s body, partly to feel the skin and partly to prevent her from falling forward. But as it slides over the blonde’s bare throat, a sharp inhale escapes Maca's lips, and Zulema pauses her movements for a second.</p><p>“You like that?” She whispers into the blonde's ear. Her hand, which was already on its way down again, slowly slides back up and wraps around the blonde’s throat. The second her grip gets tighter, pressing down on the sides of Maca's neck, she can <em> feel </em> the blonde clenching around her fingers.</p><p>“Answer me.”</p><p>
  <em>“Sí.” </em>
</p><p>Zulema smiles. "That’s what I thought.”</p><p>Macarena leans back, resting almost all her weight against Zulema’s front, allowing the brunette access to every single part of her body. Lips on her bare shoulder, five fingers wrapped around her neck, three inside of her. </p><p>The room is filled with heavy breathing and moans, that get louder and more desperate when Macarena is close already. Zulema feels it; the blonde clenching around her fingers, her heartbeat speeding up, and eventually Macarena is struggling to breathe when the brunette decides to tighten her grip around her neck just <em> that </em>much. </p><p>“I know you’re right there,” she whispers. “Fucking come for me, Maca.” </p><p>The younger woman goes completely still against her, head thrown back and resting on Zulema’s shoulder with parted lips, and her hands holding onto the headboard for support. Then, she’s falling and falling. The silence is broken when a loud, piercing moan leaves the blonde’s lips. </p><p>She’s still coming (or is she coming again?) when Zulema pulls her backwards. The brunette has decided that she wants to look at her girlfriend when she makes her come again.</p><p>Macarena finds herself on her back without really knowing how she ended up in that position, but it doesn’t matter because Zulema’s fingers are still inside of her and pushing her to the edge another time. Her hands find the brunette’s shoulders and pull her down until she’s completely on top of her. </p><p>“<em>Zulema,</em>” the blonde moans. The brunette’s lips are on her neck, sucking hard and definitely leaving a hickey that’ll be visible for everyone to see. </p><p>“Say it,” Zulema demands.</p><p>Maca knows immediately what she means, and she has no trouble admitting it. </p><p>“I’m yours,” she manages.</p><p>Zulema curls her fingers upwards. “I can’t hear you.” </p><p>The blonde’s nails are digging into the skin of Zulema’s back and Maca knows she’s going to come again. She can feel it, and Zulema knows it too. Just one more curl of those fingers and-</p><p>
  <em> “Yours!” </em>
</p><p>Zulema decides that the blonde deserves a short break, so she lets her ride out her orgasm and slowly pulls her fingers out, resting them on her leg for now. She’s not done. </p><p>Macarena is still breathing fast, but lifts her head to ask for a kiss anyway. It lasts longer than Zulema intended, simply because the feeling of Maca’s lips on hers is heavenly. She doesn’t even notice when the blonde slides both hands over her shoulders and down to her chest to cup her clothed breasts.  </p><p>“Mmm,” she pulls back. “No touching.” </p><p>“Or what?” </p><p>The sudden resistance from the blonde is not unwelcome, but Zulema needs a second to come up with a response.</p><p>“Or I’ll have to restrain you.” </p><p>That makes Macarena think of something. “Do you want me to get you handcuffs for Christmas? So you can tie me up and do whatever you want without my hands getting in the way,” the blonde smiles. It’s really meant to be a joke, but the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>“Don’t make promises you won’t keep, <em> rubia. </em>”</p><p>“Who says I won’t do it?” </p><p>Zulema’s hand slowly slides towards Maca’s center again, and the blonde’s eyes flutter closed. The conversation is over.</p><p>But Zulema’s touch is only there for a few seconds before it disappears again, and Maca’s eyes open just in time to see her girlfriend sliding down her body. </p><p>“Oh god yes,” the blonde breathes, preparing herself for the sensation. It’s been a while since Zulema has gone down on her, simply because she loves to look at Maca’s face when she comes and she can’t do that the way she wants to from between her legs. </p><p>Zulema slides her hands down to the blonde’s knees and uses a little pressure to push her legs apart the way she likes, opening Macarena up for her. </p><p>The blonde shifts her hips. She’s unable to decide if Zulema’s intense stare makes her feel nervous or wanted. Maybe a combination of both. </p><p>“Don’t,” the brunette’s voice comes. “I want to look at you.” </p><p>Macarena shivers. </p><p>“Please.” </p><p>“What?” Zulema demands. She wants to hear it. She wants to hear what the blonde needs. </p><p>“Taste me.” </p><p>
  <em> Fuck.  </em>
</p><p>The brunette settles, both hands now coming up to wrap around the blonde’s thighs. Her lips find the inside of her thigh first. Macarena lets out a yelp when Zulema bites down all of a sudden and starts to suck. Marking her once more. </p><p>Then, those same lips wrap around her clit, and Maca is gone. </p><p>The sensation is so intense that her hands immediately shoot to Zulema’s head, both trying to pull her closer and push her away, her mind at war with her body. The brunette’s tongue flicks over the perfect spot and she cries out when her third orgasm hits her immediately. </p><p>
  <em> “Zulema!”  </em>
</p><p>The brunette grins from between her girlfriend’s thighs. <em> That’s it. </em>She’s the one making Macarena feel this good. And she wants to be the only one doing this to her for the rest of their lives. </p><p>The blonde gently pulls on her girlfriend’s hair to signal that it’s getting too much, but Zulema doesn’t stop. She unwraps her hands from Maca’s thighs and uses them to press the blonde’s wrists down onto the mattress to prevent her from pulling on her hair. </p><p>Maca writhes on the bed, trying to pull away, but Zulema’s tongue follows her even when she shifts her hips. </p><p>“I can’t I can’t I-”</p><p>“Yes, you can. Just one more, <em> mi amor</em>.” </p><p>Macarena realizes that if Zulema calls her that, she’ll do anything. She stops shifting and moans as the brunette’s tongue slides through her folds again, dipping inside of her before pulling back, her lips finding Maca’s clit again. </p><p>She’s slow, more gentle this time. It doesn’t take the blonde long either way. Macarena trembles and whines because she’s so fucking sensitive but it feels <em> so good </em> and she never wants this to stop. She tries to pull her wrists from Zulema’s grip and the brunette eventually lets her, expecting both hands to tangle into her hair again. But only one hand does this, and Macarena’s other hand slides into Zulema’s and entwines their fingers on the bed sheet next to her hip.</p><p>There’s a short hitch in the movements of the brunette’s tongue and Macarena expects her to pull her hand away. <em> El elfo del puto infierno </em>doesn’t hold hands.</p><p>Except she does.</p><p>Zulema squeezes the blonde’s hand in hers and resumes her movements with more effort, bringing Maca to the edge one last time. Right to the brink, feeling the hand in hers tighten, and then over it. </p><p>The blonde doesn’t even have strength left to moan as her last orgasm hits her. Her body just twitches as Zulema pulls away, and she only whimpers when the brunette moves back up her body and kisses her with a warm mouth, making her taste herself. </p><p>“You did good today,” Zulema compliments.</p><p>Macarena manages a smile, absolutely exhausted.</p><p>“So did you.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When they’re finally back home and in bed, Zulema quickly tells Macarena about the conversation with Ramirez. They’ll have to go to Miguel’s apartment in a few days, take care of the drugs, and then meet both Miguel and Ramirez to prove her point and guarantee their safety. For once and for all. </p><p>“And there’s something else you need to know,” Zulema finishes. “For if anything happens.” </p><p>Macarena meets her eyes. “You shouldn’t think like that.” </p><p>“Listen to me.” Zulema means it. “I have two million hidden in a safe at a bank. The key is duct taped to the bottom of my nightstand here. That’s not-” Zulema holds her finger against Maca’s lips when the blonde wants to talk. “Not everything. You need a code. Will you remember it if I tell you now?” She pulls her hand away from the blonde’s mouth to give her space to talk.</p><p>“Why are you telling me this?” Maca asks instead.</p><p>“Because.” </p><p>Zulema doesn’t finish her sentence out loud. She doesn’t want to. </p><p>Because she knows that if anything happens during their encounter with Ramirez, she won’t survive it. Not because she wants to die, but because she’d rather take a bullet for Macarena than live without her. </p><p>“Nothing’s going to happen, Zulema,” the blonde reassures her. “I won’t let them hurt you.” </p><p><em> I can take care of myself, </em>is what the brunette is going to say. But for the first time in her life, it actually feels nice that someone cares about her. Someone is willing to fight for her. Her eyes flicker back and forth between Maca’s eyes and her lips. She kisses her briefly before turning around and pressing her back against the blonde’s front, and then reaches back to grab Macarena’s wrist. She pulls the blonde’s arm around her own waist.</p><p>“Hold me.” </p><p>The blonde is surprised by this turn of events, to say the least. “I never thought you'd want to be the little spoon," she jokes. </p><p>"If you make fun of me, <em> rubia</em>, you can fuck off."</p><p><em> “Vale,</em>” Maca replies. “I’m quiet.”</p><p>With the blonde curled up behind her and her warm body pressed against Zulema, the brunette dozes off quickly. Right before she’s falling into a deeper sleep, a sudden gasp from the blonde startles her awake.</p><p>“Zulema!” </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Christmas is next week!” </p><p>The brunette sighs out loud. Really? This is it? She takes a breath to calm her racing heart. </p><p>“And?” </p><p><em> “And?” </em> Macarena echoes, sitting up. “We don’t even have a Christmas tree yet.” </p><p>Zulema pulls the covers up to her neck and groans. “Jesus, you thought about that <em> now?”</em>  </p><p>The blonde lies back down again, her arm finding its way back around her girlfriend’s waist.</p><p>“Yes. We're going tree shopping tomorrow." </p><p>Another disapproving groan from Zulema is heard. Maca presses a kiss to her shoulder. It goes quiet.</p><p>"Oh," the blonde finishes. "Will you say <em>mi amor</em> more often? I like that." </p><p>As if Zulema hadn't noticed. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. lovely confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is looooooong. consider it a Christmas gift from me to all you dedicated readers. I love every single one of you. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zulema is nervous and Macarena can feel it. She can see it too, in the way Zulema is driving with her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of her Audi. And the fact that her girlfriend is so nervous doesn’t do anything to calm Macarena’s nerves either.</p><p><em>I don’t like putting you in danger, </em> Zulema had confessed earlier that morning. <em> I’m only doing this because there’s no other option.</em></p><p>Macarena had kissed her to let her know she understood.</p><p>Zulema parks the car one block away from Maca’s old apartment and turns to face her.</p><p>“I want to go through this one more time.”</p><p>The blonde doesn’t complain and does what she’s told, although this must be the seventh time in only twelve hours that Zulema has said this.</p><p>“We’re going inside and I’ll tell him that I’ve forgotten something,” Macarena starts. “You offer to get it for me and he will follow you, because he obviously doesn’t trust you. That gives me enough time to hide the drugs in his jacket. He doesn’t use the pockets.”</p><p>“And you’re sure about that?” Zulema’s gaze is intense, and Macarena manages to suppress a shiver at the fire in the brunette's eyes. </p><p>"I've lived with him for four years."</p><p>"I didn't ask that. Are you <em> sure</em>, Maca." </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Okay,” Zulema replies. “Let’s go then.” </p><p>She doesn’t kiss Macarena before they get out of the car. She knows that if she’d do that right now, it’ll only make her want to take the blonde back home and protect her from what’s going to happen today. Because Zulema knows this isn’t going to end well.</p><p>In silence, they walk up to the front door of the building. The brunette remembers standing here weeks ago, pretending to have forgotten her key, only to be let into the building to save the woman who's now walking next to her. </p><p>Macarena uses the spare key she still has and lets them in, before leading the way up the stairs. They stop in front of flat 221 and lock eyes, both nervous, but confident. Zulema gives a small nod and Maca knocks on the door three times to announce her arrival.</p><p>“Miguel,” she calls, “it’s me, Maca. I’m coming in.”</p><p>The key slides into the lock and she opens the door, stepping into the living room with Zulema right behind her. Miguel immediately appears in the hallway that leads to the bedroom. </p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p>His voice immediately sends shivers down Macarena’s spine.</p><p>“And more importantly, what is she doing here?”</p><p>Zulema is the first to respond. <em> “She </em>is here to make sure you don’t lay a hand on her,” she answers for herself. Macarena seems at a loss for words, so the brunette gives her a small nudge to pull her back into reality. It works.</p><p>“I forgot to take some clothes,” Macarena tells him. “I’m here to get them.”</p><p>Miguel laughs. “You think I haven’t thrown everything out already? You’re too late.”</p><p>The blonde feels her heartbeat in her throat, and she momentarily can’t come up with anything. Then, Zulema rests her hand in the small of Maca’s back and it spreads warmth through her entire body. It steadies her enough to think of an answer.  </p><p>“And what about my mom’s bracelet?” she counters. Miguel would never throw that away.</p><p>He squints his eyes. “Fine,” he replies. “It’s in the bedroom. Bottom drawer.”</p><p>Now it’s time to set the plan in motion. Zulema takes a step forward.</p><p>“Do you want me to get it for you?” she asks her girlfriend, who nods. “Yes,” the blonde says. “It’s on the left side of-”</p><p>“I’ll walk with her,” Miguel interrupts. Exactly like Macarena predicted. </p><p>The blonde watches as Zulema walks into the small hallway first. Miguel follows and once they’re both out of sight, Macarena reaches for the small bag filled with white powder Zulema gave her earlier. She turns and tiptoes over to the coat rack where she finds Miguel’s denim blue and only jacket. The bag disappears into his inside pocket and she spins back around, just in time.</p><p>“I got it, <em> rubia,</em>” Zulema’s voice announces their return. Miguel is still right behind the brunette, not letting her out of his sight for a single second. Except it’s not her he needs to worry about right now. But he doesn't know that. </p><p>“Fantastic,” Miguel says sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out. I have stuff to do.” </p><p>Zulema hands the bracelet over to her girlfriend, who accepts it with a forced smile on her face. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Out!” Miguel raises his voice. Maca flinches. Zulema pulls her back and steps in front of her. “In a hurry?” she asks Miguel. “Where are you going?” </p><p>Of course she knows exactly where he’s going. They’ll be there too. In about half an hour, in another dark alley in Ramirez’s district. </p><p>“None of your fucking business,” he spits. </p><p>Zulema wants to say more. She wants to fight him. But Macarena urgently pulls on her jacket, signaling that she wants to get out of here as soon as possible. Being here brings back too many memories. </p><p>So, the brunette throws him a smile instead. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she says. </p><p>She makes sure to slam the door closed behind them. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I want you to stay in the car.” </p><p>Zulema’s tone is clear. This is how it’s going to go. Macarena disagrees.</p><p>“I’m coming with you.” </p><p>Zulema shakes her head.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“<em>Maca</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Zule</em>.” Perfectly imitated. </p><p>“You’ve been through enough,” Zulema states. “I can handle this myself.”</p><p>The blonde scoffs. “Yeah. Sure. The last time you met this guy, you got shot.” </p><p>
  <em> Touché. </em>
</p><p>“Miguel can’t hurt me anymore,” Macarena assures. “I don’t care what happens to him.” With that, she opens the car door on her side and gets out. Zulema does the same. They cross the street together and the brunette leads them into an abandoned alley - or well, nearly abandoned - where Ramirez is already waiting for them. Miguel hasn’t arrived just yet.</p><p>“Zulema,” Ramirez nods, acknowledging her first before his eyes focus on Macarena. “So, you’re the girlfriend?”</p><p>“Macarena,” the blonde speaks. Her voice is calm and steady and Zulema feels her chest burst with pride at the way the younger woman is handling this. “I’m Zulema’s girlfriend.” </p><p>Ramirez looks the blonde up and down. “Mm,” he replies, before he turns his attention back to Zulema. “Tell me about Miguel. You said you have proof?”</p><p>“Yes,” Zulema replies. “I know you don’t do powder. You do pills. Yet, if you look in Miguel’s pockets when he arrives, I bet you’ll find that first one. It’s mine.” </p><p>Ramirez’s expression is neutral; definitely intrigued, but not happy, and not angry either. He just appreciates Zulema for telling him this. She could’ve kept the secret and the money she made off it to herself, but she didn’t. If everything turns out to be true, he’ll respect her for this. </p><p>If only he knew.</p><p>“We’ll find out soon then,” he replies. His eyes find Macarena again. “<em>Y tú? </em>Miguel said you left him.” </p><p>Zulema’s hand finds the blonde’s arm and she shakes her head. <em>Don't. </em> </p><p>Macarena shakes her own head in response. She rests her hand on top of Zulema’s. “I want him to know,” she tells her, before making eye contact with Ramirez again. "I left Miguel, because he abused me. He yelled at me, hit me and made me fear every sudden movement from his side. He’s not as nice as he seems. <em> That’s </em> why I left him. Not because … well, because of any other reason he might have told you.” </p><p>Ramirez looks a little shocked at this revelation, but he hides it very well. Luckily, he doesn’t have to respond, because Miguel walks into the alley. He spots the three of them immediately. </p><p>“Miguel,” Ramirez calls out, his voice smooth and inviting. “Get over here.” </p><p>Macarena’s ex-boyfriend has no idea what is about to happen here. He has no idea what’s in the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing right now. As he stands in front of Ramirez, the furthest away from both women, he looks his friend in the eye. “What’s going on here? Why did you want to meet me?” </p><p>The friendly smile disappears from Ramirez’s face all of a sudden. Miguel frowns, not understanding. </p><p>"You told me Macarena left you," Ramirez states. "But you never told me you hit her until she had no other choice.” </p><p>The blonde shivers when she hears her own experience being told, by someone else, to the person who this is all about. Zulema keeps a close eye on her, analyzing every single movement to make sure she’s okay. But she doesn’t reach out for her.  </p><p>Miguel looks at Macarena, Zulema, and back at Ramirez again. Confused. “That’s what this is about?” he asks. His voice goes angry. “Wait until you meet the whore your girlfriend has run off with. I’ll talk to you then.” </p><p>The blonde’s hands start to shake out of anger, while Zulema manages to suppress a physical response to Miguel’s words. It wouldn’t do any good. What’s about to come will be better.</p><p>Ramirez steps closer to Miguel. “Actually, that’s not what this is about. You’re a traitor,” he states, looking the other man dead in the eye. “And if there's one thing I hate, it's traitors.” </p><p>Now, Miguel is properly confused. Zulema almost feels bad for him. Almost.</p><p>“What the fuck are you talking about?” </p><p>Ramirez reaches out and his hands disappear into the outside pockets of Miguel’s jacket. He feels and inspects. Nothing. He pulls back. “Take it off,” he demands, and the other man immediately does what he’s told. He has nothing to hide anyway.</p><p>Ramirez searches the inside pockets. First left, then right. Bingo. </p><p>Very slowly, he retracts his hand, pulling the small plastic bag Macarena held in her hands just over half an hour ago with him. He drapes the jacket over his free arm. </p><p>“Look what I found.” </p><p>Miguel’s eyes go wide. </p><p>“That’s not mine.” </p><p>“Then what is it doing in your jacket?” </p><p>Miguel can’t figure out an answer to that. His eyes flicker between the white powder and Ramirez’s face, and Zulema notices how he’s starting to get terrified now. <em> Good</em>, she thinks. <em> Let him suffer. He deserves it. </em></p><p>“I swear to God, Ramirez, that isn’t mine,” Miguel’s voice trembles a little.</p><p>The other man throws the jacket back at him and holds onto the small bag. “Abusing your girlfriend, fucking me over by selling for someone else, lying to me …,” he tsks. “That’s quite a list.” </p><p>Miguel shakes his head. “I’m not lying. That,” he points at the bag Ramirez is still holding, “is not mine. <em> Te lo juro.</em>”</p><p>Ramirez makes eye contact with Zulema and makes a small nodding motion with his head. Zulema understands immediately, and takes Macarena's hand in hers. "We have to go." The blonde immediately finds her eyes, confused. “Trust me,” the brunette adds. </p><p>Miguel’s eyes are on Macarena as the blonde lets herself be pulled away from the two men, out of the alley and back towards the street. All they can hear is raised voices as the two men get into a heated argument. They walk away without looking back, one a bit more reluctant than the other, as their job is now done. Zulema doesn’t let go of Macarena’s hand. </p><p>When they round the corner, the sound of a loud gunshot echoes through the street and stops everything.</p><p>Macarena freezes on the spot. </p><p>Wide eyes find Zulema’s. She doesn’t know for <em> sure, </em> of course. But the look on her girlfriend’s face says enough and she’s known Ramirez longer than Maca does. That was Miguel. Shot and killed, probably. Her ex-boyfriend, the one who abused her for months and who made her life a living hell. She almost gets lost in the memories of him, his loud voice and his hand raised above her head as he-</p><p>“Come on.” </p><p>Zulema’s voice breaks through the thoughts clouding her rational mind and brings Maca back to the here and now. She realizes they have to go. </p><p>It’s silent between them as the brunette guides them back to the car. Not a single word is spoken until they’re safely secured in the black Audi and on their way back home. And surprisingly enough, Macarena feels perfectly fine. The sound of the gunshot was a shock, but only because she's never heard anything like that before. It doesn't matter that Miguel took the bullet. It doesn't matter that he's no longer breathing. </p><p>Zulema’s hand finds Macarena’s leg at a red light. She looks at her girlfriend, observing and thinking and analyzing. </p><p>"Are you okay?" </p><p>It feels like a stupid question, but there’s really nothing else the brunette can ask. </p><p>"I don't think I feel anything," Macarena replies. Her expression is normal, her posture relaxed. "That's the problem." </p><p><em> Welcome to the other side, </em> Zulema thinks. <em> The side where getting rid of people feels more like an accomplishment than a crime.  </em></p><p>“Maybe you will,” the brunette offers. The light turns green and she presses her foot on the gas pedal. “Sometimes it doesn’t hit until a few days later.” </p><p>The blonde leans over and kisses her cheek, before resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. She laces their fingers together, and Zulema lets her.</p><p>“Thank you,” Maca says. “For saving me. And for saving us, now.” </p><p>
  <em> Us. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema was right. Macarena breaks down two days after the shooting, on the day before Christmas Eve. The brunette goes looking for her because her shower takes too long, and finds her sitting on the bathroom floor in a towel and her head in her hands. Without hesitation, Zulema lowers herself down onto the wet floor next to her girlfriend and pulls her against her while she cries. Life’s been too hard on her and she’s never had the chance to fully process everything until now. Zulema sits with her for nearly an hour, whispering comforting words and talking about everything Macarena wants to talk about. It was necessary, and Maca feels better after. </p><p>Tonight is finally Christmas Eve and neither one of them can wait any longer. So, they decide that they’re allowed to open one present each. </p><p>The Christmas tree Macarena insisted on getting stands next to the television. That device is only turned on for the blonde to pick a Christmas playlist on Spotify to fill the room with tunes, although Zulema doesn't really see the point. She just lets the younger woman do her thing.</p><p>Macarena has just decided on an old-fashioned ‘popular Christmas songs’ list when Zulema brings two mugs of hot chocolate into the living room and sets them down on the table. </p><p>
  <em> “Lista, rubia?”  </em>
</p><p>“Yes,” Macarena smiles, “You can go first.” </p><p>Zulema chuckles. “Fine. Sit.” She motions towards the couch and Maca sits down, while the brunette kneels down next to the tree and reaches for a small package. </p><p>They’re both a little nervous and it lingers in the air between them as Zulema sits down next to Macarena. She shifts her body so she’s facing the blonde, one leg dangling off the couch and the other one folded underneath her. Macarena does the same.</p><p>“Okay, so,” Zulema hands the neatly wrapped gift to her girlfriend, who starts plucking at the tape immediately. “I think I've paid enough attention to know what you like. I just hope I got this right.”</p><p>Macarena feels her heart in her throat as she carefully unwraps the gift, revealing a black velvet little bag. She pulls on the strings to open it and sees something silver shining up at her. </p><p>“What …,” two fingers disappear into the small bag and she retrieves the gift, finally realizing what it is. A silver necklace with a light blue, round stone. She recalls seeing it earlier this week, when they were shopping in the center.  </p><p>“This is perfect,” the blonde whispers, making eye contact with her nervous girlfriend. “How did you know?” </p><p>“I noticed you looking at it when we were shopping,” Zulema replies. “And your face did that, that <em> thing</em>, where you stare at something with a certain look in your eyes.” </p><p>Exactly that look is the one Macarena is giving her girlfriend now. Admiration. </p><p>“So I went back later and got it for you.” </p><p>Maca leans forward and presses their lips together, absolutely in awe of this woman in front of her. Zulema’s hand finds her waist and they share twenty, thirty more seconds together like this before the blonde pulls back.</p><p>“You know, it’s actually funny that you got me this,” she says. Zulema’s eyes follow her as she gets up from the couch and grabs her own present from underneath the Christmas tree, before returning to her spot on the couch. “I got you something similar.”</p><p>The brunette frowns. Maca is impatient. </p><p>“Just open it.” </p><p>Zulema is less gentle with the wrapping paper than her girlfriend, although she makes sure to be gentle with the gift itself. She pulls on the paper once it’s coming loose and finally reveals what’s inside. </p><p>“It’s a gemstone,” Macarena explains. “Saray told me that you don’t like silly jewelry, so that’s why I got you this. It fits in your pocket, so you don't have to have it out there in the open, but you’ll still be able to carry it with you everywhere.”</p><p>Zulema seems to be intrigued by the little stone. She holds it in her hand, weighing it, and carefully inspects every inch of the material. </p><p>“This is a lapis lazuli," Maca tells her. “It's known for looking like the night sky. I also did some research," she adds. "It was an important gemstone in Egypt.”</p><p>At the mention of her country, Zulema looks up. Her eyes hold different emotions all at once; disbelief, a little sadness, more admiration, and definitely a whole lot of love. </p><p>“What does it do?”</p><p>“It’s a protection stone,” Macarena explains. “Physically, but mostly mentally. And it can help you heal, from … things.” </p><p>The blonde can tell by the shift of emotions in her girlfriend’s face that she’s done the right thing. Zulema tears up a little, enough to be noticeable but not enough for the drops to flow over. Macarena pretends not to notice anyway.</p><p>“Like I said, you don’t have to show it like you would do with jewelry. You can just carry it with you everywhere.” </p><p>Zulema holds the stone in her hand for a little longer. It feels nice, and the fact that Macarena actually did research to find her something from her home country does something to her feelings. She carefully places the stone on the table next to their drinks - probably still too hot to drink anyway - and faces her girlfriend again.</p><p>“Thank you,” she says. “For getting me that.”</p><p>Maca smiles softly. “Thank you too.” </p><p>Zulema leans in once more, initiating another kiss. It used to be Macarena who had to do this all the time, but the brunette has grown. She’s comfortable now. </p><p>“We should celebrate,” Macarena mumbles. “Today is special.” </p><p>Zulema pulls back enough to answer. “Aren’t we celebrating already?” she questions. The blonde’s arms find their way around Zulema’s waist, although they’re still sitting on the couch and the position is definitely not the most comfortable one. </p><p>“We are,” the blonde replies, “But we could do more. It’s Christmas Eve. You’re my girlfriend. That’s special.” </p><p>The brunette kisses Maca’s lips and then her cheek before she pulls back to look into her light green eyes. “And what do you propose?” she teases.</p><p>“Alcohol?” Macarena offers.</p><p>Zulema shakes her head and leans in. For another kiss, Macarena thinks, but the brunette averts her lips at the very last second. They find her ear instead. “The only way I want to celebrate,” Zulema husks, “is with you on your back and my fingers inside of you.” </p><p>Macarena’s eyes flutter closed and her barely audible exhale doesn’t go unnoticed by Zulema. Of course it doesn’t. </p><p>“In that case,” the blonde manages. “There’s something else I want.”</p><p>The brunette’s eyes find hers, curious and a little nervous, but trusting.</p><p>“What is it?” she asks.</p><p>Macarena exhales. She wants this so badly, but doesn’t know if her girlfriend is ready. They’ve been going further the last few times and yes, Zulema did come, but Maca hasn't gotten the chance to actually touch her just yet. </p><p>“You.” </p><p>If there wasn’t any tension between them before, there definitely is now. </p><p>“I don’t know if I …,” Zulema starts but trails off, hand movements accompanying her words. “You know.” </p><p>“I know,” Maca replies. “But we can try.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>So, they do. They try.  </p><p>Zulema needs to have the upper hand at first, so Macarena lets her. She willingly lies down on the mattress in her underwear, looking up at her girlfriend as Zulema climbs on top of her, already in her underwear as well. They share a few gentle kisses before the brunette sits back on Maca’s legs to look at her and the blonde immediately reaches out for her. </p><p>“What do you like?" she asks, running her hands over the body above her. She could find out for herself, but she’d rather have Zulema tell her. “Fingers? Tongue?” And then with her own tongue running over her lips and her teeth biting down on the bottom one before slowly releasing it, she adds. “Toys?” </p><p>That makes Zulema laugh. It’s only a soft chuckle, but it settles in Macarena's chest and makes her whole body shiver.  </p><p>“Why, did you bring any?” Zulema asks. </p><p>"No, I figured you'd have a few."</p><p>"I don't, actually." Zulema laughs again at the baffled look on Macarena’s face. </p><p>"Nothing? Not even one?" the blonde asks in disbelief. </p><p>Zulema leans over her, resting both hands on the sides of Maca’s head. She presses a quick kiss to her lips before trailing towards her ear. </p><p>“Why would you need toys when you have fingers and a tongue?”</p><p>Macarena’s eyes flutter closed at the soft whisper in her ear. And then gasps, when her girlfriend starts kissing down her neck. She’s just trying to think of a way to turn this around, when the brunette does it for her. </p><p>Zulema rolls them over so Macarena is on top and tries to calm her racing heart by pulling the blonde closer against her. “I like everything,” she mumbles as a late response, “as long as you do it.” </p><p>Maca looks down at her girlfriend at those words, her expression soft. She then realizes that things have never been like this; her looking <em> down </em> at Zulema, and the unfamiliar position throws her off a little. Zulema has never willingly given up control. </p><p>The blonde rests her full weight on top of the brunette and kisses her, because Zulema’s entire body is tense and Macarena feels it. Probably because this time Zulema knows what’s happening. Maybe it would’ve been better to just let things happen instead of asking her, Maca realizes, but she also doesn’t want to take the brunette by surprise. </p><p>Her hands slide in the small space between Zulema's back and the sheets, blindly reaching for her bra clasp and pulling on it until she feels the material give way. Although it seems like there aren't any barriers left and she could just pull it off, she doesn't. Because there <em> is </em> a barrier, a very important one. </p><p>Zulema’s trust. </p><p>So even while loose, the piece of clothing stays right where it is and the blonde finds deep green eyes with a silent question in them. </p><p>
  <em> Is this okay? </em>
</p><p>The brunette nods. Her next exhale is shaky from nerves and excitement at the same time.</p><p>Macarena leans down and presses their lips together while pulling the item away from Zulema's body. She wants to sit up and look at the woman beneath her, wants to appreciate the sight that sure will leave her breathless, but she knows Zulema needs a moment. So their lips stay pressed together and both their eyes stay closed. Accommodating to this new situation. </p><p>Until Zulema shifts slightly and lets Macarena know that she’s okay by turning her head, giving immediate access to her neck. Maca doesn’t have to be told twice, and her lips find the skin right below the brunette’s jaw. She kisses it, licks it and then bites down, drawing a gasp from the older woman while her hand slides over Zulema’s naked chest and then all the way down to her waist. </p><p>“Tell me what you want,” Maca whispers.</p><p>“Touch me.”</p><p>Macarena shivers. Zulema’s voice is deep and husky, an obvious sign that she’s aroused. So the blonde does what she’s told and slides her hand over Zulema’s leg to the inside of her thigh, cupping her over her underwear. She finds more wetness than expected.</p><p>“Don’t act so surprised,” the brunette’s voice sounds, as if she knows what her girlfriend is thinking. Maca pulls back with a surprised smile on her face. “This is what I do to you?” </p><p>Zulema smiles back. Despite being almost fully naked, she finds herself relaxing more and more. <em> Is this what trust feels like? </em></p><p>“One kiss already does it for me,” she confesses. "So imagine our make-out session on the couch earlier." And then, adds immediately. “Now touch me.” </p><p>Macarena makes sure to watch her girlfriend’s face as she slides her hand up over the fabric and then finally dips her fingers underneath it, sliding back down again. A sharp inhale tells her that she’s doing something right. </p><p>It wouldn’t be fair to tease Zulema right now, so all the blonde focuses on is making her feel good. Her fingers slide through the wetness and she watches as Zulema tries very hard to not make a sound. She bites on her lip and turns her head away from Maca, but the blonde knows. It won't be long. </p><p>The brunette manages to keep fairly still, as if each movement is a sign of weakness. Macarena just wants to see her <em> let go</em>. She leans in for another kiss, knowing that Zulema won't refuse that and will have to look at her again. She presses their lips together while she briefly dips a finger inside before pulling out and resuming her earlier movements. “Don't do that," she whispers into their kiss. "Don't hold back. I like hearing you." </p><p>Zulema, cocky as always, responds quickly. "How do you know? You've never heard me before." </p><p>"Show me then." </p><p>That’s an unexpected answer, coming from Macarena, and Zulema finds that somehow her girlfriend’s smart comments turn her on even more. In combination with her fingers pressing down exactly where she needs it, she gasps. The blonde does it again, firmer this time, and Zulema feels herself slowly losing the battle. </p><p>“That's it,” Macarena encourages. Her fingers keep rubbing circles while her lips find her girlfriend’s neck again and when she bites down hard, she wins.</p><p>
  <em> “Ah!” </em>
</p><p>It’s the first time Zulema lets out a proper moan and it hits hard. The brunette sounds more feminine than Macarena expected, but for some reason it suits her. Now she knows what Zulema sounds like, she wants <em> more </em>and she wants it right now. Her hand comes up to pull on Zulema’s underwear, and the brunette helps her take it off without hesitation. But the blonde doesn’t miss the way her girlfriend gazes at her still clothed chest, and she smiles.</p><p>“Fine,” her hands reach behind her back and pull on the bra clasp while Zulema is already pulling on her underwear.</p><p>Within seconds, they’re both naked. Skin on skin. Crossing the final barrier. </p><p>Macarena quickly reclaims her position on top of her girlfriend and kisses her while she slowly presses one finger inside, making the brunette moan into her mouth. She’s still tight, but <em> very </em>wet, and Maca wants to try.</p><p>“Breathe,” she whispers against parted lips. Zulema obeys and the blonde feels the tense muscles relax underneath her. This is what she’s been waiting for.</p><p>Surrender.</p><p>Very slowly, Macarena slips a second finger inside and feels nails breaking the skin of her back. Zulema’s eyes are closed and her mouth falls open in a silent moan as Maca touches her just right, and she finds herself unable to do anything but surrender to the overwhelming pleasure the blonde’s fingers are causing. And for once, surrendering doesn’t feel like a weakness. </p><p><em> “Fuck,” </em> she moans, louder this time, because it doesn’t matter anymore. Macarena slides her fingers out and pushes back in again. Her forehead presses against Zulema’s and everything about this feels different.</p><p>it doesn’t feel like them in Libertad. It doesn’t feel like fucking. What they're doing now feels more like <em> loving</em>, delicate and overwhelming at the same time. Giving and taking in the form of light but heavy moans and the breaking of skin; a quiet whisper asking for more followed by a gentle voice telling to let go, to feel, to trust. Lips pressed together and then lips on soft skin again, feeling a rapid heartbeat just underneath an already purple hickey, both reminders of this <em> thing </em> they share. </p><p>Slowly but surely, Zulema can feel her orgasm approaching. She feels the tingling in her stomach as it moves up to her chest and wraps around her like a blanket, trapping her into the feeling of complete helplessness as she gets closer to the edge.</p><p>It’s terrifying. </p><p>“Maca,” she manages in some kind of strangled moan. “I can’t.”</p><p>
  <em> Not when you’re touching me. Not when I’m not in control.  </em>
</p><p>The blonde knew that this was coming at some point. She curls her fingers again as her thumb finds Zulema’s clit, before she searches for deep green eyes. </p><p>“Zulema.” It’s a quiet whisper, but somehow enough to make the woman below her open her eyes. Macarena shakes her head and manages to keep her voice gentle and her movements firm. “Don’t fight it.”  </p><p>The brunette’s eyes are entirely black with arousal, but Maca doesn’t get to enjoy the sight for very long. She does, however, enjoy the sight of Zulema’s eyes falling closed at her words and watching her as her head falls back onto the pillow, exposing a sweaty neck and the marks on the skin left by the blonde. </p><p>Macarena feels her girlfriend clenching around her fingers and knows she’s right there. So she wraps her entire body around Zulema, kisses her cheek and looks at her as she whispers the final words.</p><p>“Let go.” </p><p>Zulema does.</p><p>The moan gets stuck in her throat because of the force with which her orgasm hits, but that doesn’t make her body less responsive. Her legs tremble and she presses her thighs together while Macarena somehow manages to keep moving as she works her through it. Zulema pulls on every part of her girlfriend she can reach, because it feels like she keeps falling and even when she finally thinks her body is starting to calm down, the blonde hits another right spot and she falls again. Eventually, the brunette whimpers as it becomes too much and Maca notices, so she slows down and eventually pulls her fingers out. She rests them on the sheets for now - they have to wash those anyway - and looks at her girlfriend’s face as she realizes that Zulema has just given herself over to her. </p><p>The admiration and love she feels for this woman below her is suddenly so overwhelming that she can’t stop the words from leaving her mouth, even if she tries. </p><p>“I love you.” </p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p>Zulema’s eyes flutter open at this. It’s been years since someone’s said this to her. It’s been an entire lifetime since someone’s actually meant it.</p><p>She should say something, probably. That’d be nice. Say something about how this means a lot to her. But all that comes out, is “more”. </p><p>Macarena understands. Of course she does, otherwise they wouldn’t be here in this moment right now. She kisses the brunette’s lips and then her collarbone. She softly sucks on her nipple and feels the older woman’s hands tighten in her hair before her back arches and her breath hitches shortly. Maca’s lips go further down. Over Zulema’s ribs, stomach, hips. Kissing and sucking on every part she can reach.  </p><p>
  <em> Mine. </em>
</p><p>On very, very few occasions, Zulema let a woman go down on her. Never like this though - lying down on her back - but always standing up in a bathroom stall of a club where they'd willingly drop onto their knees and where she could leave them right after. But it's been so long that Zulema forgot how fucking <em> good </em> this felt. </p><p>Because Macarena knows what she's doing. The brunette expected nothing else of her. </p><p>When her lips finally wrap around Zulema’s clit, a desperate moan echoes through the room and fingers tangle in Maca’s hair, pulling her impossibly closer. The blonde takes her time to build her girlfriend up again, softly licking and sucking. This isn't necessarily about making her come again, it’s just about making her feel good. And from the sounds Zulema’s making, Maca can tell she definitely feels good. </p><p>The blonde lets herself be guided by Zulema’s hands and her moans. Once she actually starts making an effort and isn’t just doing this to work her up anymore, Zulema’s moans get louder and her back arches, silently asking for more. Macarena gives it to her in the form of pressing a finger inside of her and curling up, and that in combination with her skilled tongue immediately does it.</p><p>“I’m- <em> Fuck, Maca!”  </em></p><p>It takes her less time to calm down after this one, although the brunette is still breathing heavily by the time Macarena has moved back up her body and kisses her with a warm mouth. Zulema can’t help but moan again at the taste of herself. She wraps both arms around her girlfriend and presses her flush against her, before burying her head in the small space between her neck and shoulder. Together at last. </p><p>She recognizes feelings she hasn't felt in a long time. The time before Maca, at least. She feels safe and relaxed and above all satisfied. </p><p>Maybe this is what love is all about. Patience and guidance. Having someone to hold onto when things get rough or when you're experiencing something again for the first time in years and you don't exactly know how to deal with it.</p><p>Like today.</p><p>Zulema considers the feeling in her chest. She rests her head back on the pillow and looks up at Maca, confirming what she already knows. </p><p>“<em>Yo te quiero también, rubia.”</em></p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Merry Christmas 🥰</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this story is slowly coming to an end with this as the second to last chapter. I’ll save my speech for next week ;) this chapter is a little short, because I didn’t have time, inspiration and motivation to write. I hope you like it anyway. happy 2021 to you all and let’s hope this year will be a little better than the last one 💓✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Christmas morning. The two women are tangled up in each other underneath the sheets, warm and comfortable and it’s everything they ever wanted. Macarena scoots closer to the brunette while her arm wraps around Zulema’s waist and she throws her leg over Zulema’s, her eyes never leaving her girlfriend’s face. She looks so peaceful in the mornings, when the sun peeking through the blinds makes her face glow and she still has her eyes closed. Not that she's sleeping. She's just enjoying the feeling of lingering between being asleep and waking up. Zulema grumbles when she feels Macarena move against her, slightly pulling on her hip to pull them even closer together. But the blonde is already forgiven when she presses a soft kiss to Zulema's shoulder and wraps her entire body around the brunette. </p><p>Zulema feels the warmth of the younger woman's body spread through her own, and her heartbeat speeds up and her body calms down at the same time. That's what always happens when she's with Macarena. The blonde keeps her on edge, but makes her feel safe. As if she's found her place on this earth when she's with her. </p><p>"Maca." </p><p>The brunette's voice is still rough from sleeping and Macarena smiles at the sound. "Yes?"</p><p>The hand that Maca has wrapped around Zulema's waist rises and falls as the brunette takes a breath, slowly starting to wake up. But she's not quite there yet, and Macarena finds that she likes these early mornings the most. Zulema is more affectionate when she's sleepy, and more likely to open up. </p><p>“Am I supposed to feel so … much?” </p><p>The question may seem weird to an outsider and they probably won’t understand what Zulema means. But Macarena knows exactly what her girlfriend is talking about. </p><p>“Yeah,” the blonde smiles. “You are.” </p><p>The brunette shifts in Maca’s arms and finally opens her eyes, meeting light green ones that are already looking at her. They drop down to her lips and they kiss very briefly before Zulema pulls back again. </p><p>“It’s a lot,” the brunette adds. “The feelings.” </p><p>“Good or bad?”</p><p>“Confusing.”</p><p>Macarena hears right through that answer.</p><p>“Scary?” she asks. </p><p>Zulema buries her head underneath the blonde’s chin and exhales the tension already present in her body. </p><p>“Hm.” </p><p>Macarena kisses the top of the brunette’s head and decides against replying. It’s already enough that Zulema is being this open with her. They lie together in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the feeling of them together like this on their first Christmas morning. Just listening to each other’s breathing, because there’s really nothing else they need right now. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Ready?”</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>Christmas Day at Saray's place. The young brunette is too excited to wait any longer, so they decide that she gets to unwrap a present first. Maya goes second, and then goes Zulema. Although she and Macarena have already given the other a present, they still have some smaller things to give.</p><p>Zulema expects a book from the way her present is wrapped. But Maca has a certain look on her face, expectation mingled with nervousness, and it makes the brunette curious.</p><p>She pulls on the wrapping paper to reveal a matte black notebook with a small, white scorpion drawn on the cover. She lifts her head to look at her girlfriend, who’s already looking at her with a small smile on her face.</p><p>“What is this?” </p><p>“I actually have a reason for getting you this,” Macarena explains. “When you were so drunk a couple of weeks ago, I had to get painkillers from the drawer in your nightstand. I saw all these random notes scattered around there.” <em> Wait, </em> the blonde realizes when Zulema’s eyes go wide. “No! I didn’t read them. I would never,” she adds immediately. “But I figured this might be a way to keep things organized.” </p><p>“So you did actually listen to me?” Saray interrupts, turning to Zulema with a baffled expression. The older woman just shrugs.</p><p>Macarena’s face changes from excitement to confusion. <em>“Qué?”</em></p><p>“Oh,” Saray realizes. “Yeah. I told Zule a while ago that she should start writing down her thoughts. To clear her head. Turns out she’s a brilliant writer.”  </p><p>“I’m <em> not,</em>” Zulema interrupts, throwing her best friend a look. “I just like to do it.” </p><p>“Do you have something we can read? A poem?” Maya asks out of curiosity. Macarena immediately notices that the brunette tenses up and decides to step in.</p><p>“I don’t think you remember them off the top of your head, do you?” she asks.</p><p>Zulema flashes her a grateful smile, before turning to Maya. “No, I don’t. Sorry.” She leans down and gets a new present from underneath the Christmas tree, which turns out to be for Macarena. </p><p>The blonde takes the square box from her girlfriend and starts plucking at the tape. “What is it?” she asks. </p><p>Zulema rolls her eyes. “Well if you open it, you’ll know.” </p><p>“Shut up,” Macarena counters, although there’s absolutely no anger in her voice. She finally manages to tear the paper and reveals a box with the image of a camera on the front. Not a polaroid, not an analogue, but a very expensive looking digital camera. </p><p>“Zulema …,” the blonde’s mouth falls open. “What? Do you know how much- I only gave you a-” </p><p>“I don’t care,” the brunette replies. “I don’t need gifts. I wanted to get this for you.”</p><p>Saray shares a look with Maya and they both look back at the pair with a smile. <em> These two.  </em></p><p>“But why?” Macarena questions. She carefully opens the box and takes the camera out, holding it in her hand and inspecting it. </p><p>“Photography makes you see the world differently.”</p><p>Saray chuckles at that. “What an inspirational quote,” she replies. “Where did you get that from?” </p><p>“I thought of it,” Zulema tries. Until Macarena raises an eyebrow to silently say <em> yeah sure</em>, and everyone starts to laugh. “Fine,” the brunette gives in. “The guy in the store told me.” </p><p>Maca shakes her head in disbelief at her present. She likes photography, but she’s never tried it. Now she finally has a chance to. She leans over to kiss her girlfriend and mouths a silent <em> thank you </em>while Saray is already unwrapping her next present.</p><p>In between the laughter, Christmas cookies and drinks, Zulema and Macarena disappear into the hallway. Saray and Maya eye them suspiciously when they leave, not missing how Maca’s hand slips into Zulema’s as they leave the room, but don’t say anything. </p><p>Luckily, the thud of the blonde’s back hitting the wall can’t be heard over the sound of Christmas music and Zulema’s lips are on Maca’s to muffle the moan that undoubtedly would’ve left her mouth. </p><p>The two women stand there, in the hallway, exchanging kisses and hands running over bodies, until the brunette - accidentally, she defends herself - slips her hand up Macarena's thigh, pulling the dress up with it. </p><p>"Mm," the blonde protests. "We can't."</p><p>Zulema groans in response. Unable to help herself, her fingers trace up the inside of her thigh and eventually reach her girlfriend's center. </p><p>"Zulema," Maca whispers. "Don't."</p><p>"Alright, alright," the brunette pulls her hand away and rests it on the blonde's hip. "You just make it so easy for me." Their eyes meet and Zulema's hand slowly moves back again, never breaking eye contact. "In this fucking short dress," she whispers. "I can just slide my hand up and-"</p><p>
  <em>"Oye!"</em>
</p><p>They're forced apart when Saray's voice carries into the hallway and interrupts them. The brunette stands in the door opening that leads into the living room, one hand still on the door knob. </p><p>"No sex in my <em> house</em>, Zule." </p><p>Macarena giggles, and Zulema pulls away with a smile. "We weren't going to," the older woman defends herself. </p><p>Saray scoffs. "<em>Claro</em>. Come on, brunch is ready.”</p><p>“I only know one thing I want to eat,” Zule mumbles, quiet enough for only Maca to hear. The blonde turns around and throws her girlfriend a look, before giving her a playful shove and walking back into the living room. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After the presents and brunch, Macarena and Zulema returned home and the blonde is now making preparations for their own Christmas dinner. But not before she does something else first. </p><p>Maca turns the folded letter over and over between her fingers. She’s insanely nervous, although the words she wrote are nothing new. It feels scary anyway. She takes a breath and glances towards the living room, where her girlfriend is sitting on the couch and writing in her new notebook. Maca smiles softly. </p><p>“I’m getting ingredients for dinner,” she announces. “I’ll be back in twenty.” She drops the letter on the kitchen counter and tries to not run out of the room immediately. “Your coffee is ready here on the counter.” </p><p>“Thanks,” it sounds from the living room. Zulema is too busy to even turn around and it’s probably for the best, because she’d notice Macarena’s nervousness immediately just by looking at her.</p><p>Five minutes after the front door has fallen shut, Zulema gets up from the couch to get her coffee. She leaves her pencil in between the pages, so she doesn’t have to find the page she was working on in case the book falls closed, and makes her way into the kitchen.</p><p>Her eyes fall onto the white piece of paper immediately and her heart starts beating faster. She doesn't know if it's for her. But why would the blonde leave it here for her to find? Suddenly, all Zulema can think about is her worst fear and she glances around the room, relieved when she finds Macarena’s passport still laying in the messy corner of the counter. The blonde would never leave her without taking her passport. Although - and she’ll never admit this out loud - Zulema quickly makes her way into their bedroom to check the drawers for Maca’s bags and clothing. Everything’s still there. </p><p>Once back in the kitchen, she opens the letter. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Zulema, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m writing this because I know I can’t say this to you. You don’t like talking about feelings and - although you’ve gotten better at it - they still make you uncomfortable, so I decided that a letter was probably the best way to do it. I won’t be here when you read this. That should give you enough time to think.   </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Zulema puts the letter down again, a strange feeling settling in her stomach. What is this? She’s a little nervous, but curiosity gets the better of her and she continues reading.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I knew from the moment I met you in Libertad that you were different. You wanted me like everybody else in there, but the way you treated me was not like everybody else. From that very beginning, when you asked me about those bruises and I saw the look in your eyes change when I told you about everything, I knew you felt something too. Admitting it was scary, both for you and for me and for different reasons. You were holding back and you were closed off and I really thought you’d never admit what you felt for me, although I could read it in your eyes anyway. But I told myself that if you didn’t want to take the leap and be my girlfriend, I would try to be friends with you. I would rather be your friend than lose you forever.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Then you kissed me. Or I kissed you, rather, but you were the one who allowed me to do it. I think that was when we both really knew. It was the kiss that confirmed everything for me anyway. You were still scared and pushing me away, but I wasn’t just going to give up. And I’m glad I didn’t, because look where we are now. This has been our first Christmas together and I know that I don’t want anything else for the rest of my life. This is not me proposing to you, don’t worry, but this is just me telling you that I want you forever.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Normal couples would get something like a promise ring, but we’re not exactly a normal couple. Besides, I don’t like promise rings and you probably don’t either. So, just consider this letter our own substitution of that.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m promising you forever. I know that you won’t believe me until I prove it, and that makes me want to promise you that I’m going to prove you wrong, but I think we’d get lost in the amount of promises I want to make.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just keep me by your side and I’ll show you.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hope you’ll want me forever too, because there’s no one else I’d prefer to share my forever with.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let me know.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>~ Macarena</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Zulema doesn’t even notice she’s crying until a tear slides down her cheek and falls onto the paper, leaving a little circle behind. She quickly wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand and lays the paper down onto the counter, hoping the ink won’t run. This piece of paper means everything to her. </p><p>She has managed to compose herself and go back to her spot on the couch by the time Macarena returns from the supermarket. </p><p>“Hola,” the blonde’s voice rings from the hallway. “I’m back.” </p><p>“You don’t have to say that every time. I heard the door close,” Zulema answers just to annoy her girlfriend. She can perfectly picture the way Maca rolls her eyes. She doesn’t even need to see it. </p><p>In the hallway, the blonde leaves her boots under the coat rack and takes a deep breath before walking into the kitchen. A quick glance at the counter tells her that the letter is gone. Zulema has read it. Or at least, she has it. </p><p>Macarena starts unpacking the bags as if nothing happened. Zulema needs to come to her when she’s ready. Forcing her to talk won’t do any good.</p><p>Turns out the brunette doesn’t need long. She gets up from the couch after a few minutes and goes to stand behind Macarena in the kitchen, two hands tugging on her hips to make her turn around. </p><p>The blonde spins in her girlfriend’s arms and faces Zulema, nervously waiting for a response. </p><p>“Say it.” </p><p>Zulema’s voice is soft but demanding, and Macarena briefly frowns at the request. She needs a second to realize what the brunette is asking. </p><p>“Forever,” she whispers, locking eyes with her girlfriend. “I promise.” </p><p>Zulema leans in and kisses her right when the last word leaves her lips. </p><p>“Okay,” she mumbles. “Me too, then.”</p><p>They kiss and pull each other impossibly closer until Macarena is too out of breath to continue and then simply rest their foreheads against each other. Until Zulema pulls back, confusion written all over her face. </p><p>“What?” Macarena questions.</p><p>“You smell different.”</p><p>“Oh,” the blonde laughs. “Yeah. I stole your perfume before going out.”</p><p>That does something to Zulema, although she can’t quite put her finger on what it is. She finds light green eyes again and thinks of the words Macarena wrote in that letter, of the memories they already share together and the feelings she’s learned to accept instead of push away. </p><p>At the beginning of September, she hadn’t expected her life to change so drastically over the course of only a few months. She definitely hadn’t expected to be living with a woman in her own apartment, sharing day and night and ups and downs. </p><p>Now it’s somehow already the end of December and where Zulema always used to dread the New Year with its same old responsibilities and new promises, she finds that right now she can’t wait for it to start.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. to infinity and beyond</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, here we are. This is the epilogue. I can’t believe how far this story has gotten me and the amount of support you have given me. I’m so so so incredibly thankful for your kudos and comments and retweets every single week. Even if I’d had a horrible week, the fact that it was Friday made things so much better because I knew I’d have you guys reading my story and responding to it and all of that made everything worth it. This story has honestly changed me, both as a person and as a writer, and it made me find new friends and get even closer to already existing ones. I’m eternally grateful for that. </p><p>I had to go out with a bang, obviously, so here’s some drama first. Fluff will follow later. Past tense and present tense are all thrown together because of flashbacks, but I hope you’ll get it. Enjoy, for the last time. ✨</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been five years. Five years of living together with Macarena in their apartment in Madrid. They still live in that same apartment, which is definitely a record for Zulema, because she’s never lived in the same place for that long. It helps that she's realized home isn’t a place, but a person. Macarena is her home. </p><p>A lot has happened in those five years they’ve spent together. Both good and bad, although the bad sometimes overshadowed the good. </p><p>A few months after the encounter with Miguel, Zulema started working with Ramirez instead of seeing him as an enemy, because they both realized they could make a lot more money if they collaborated. This meant that the brunette made long days and often didn’t get home until after midnight, something Macarena would get mad about. She was afraid that her girlfriend would get too wrapped up in her business and would stop thinking about herself, about them. Zulema often disagreed, because she still found it hard to believe that someone cared about her this much. She got so used to coming home to an empty apartment that she sometimes had to be reminded of the fact that Macarena was now there waiting for her. </p><p>After another huge fight and a long conversation that lasted until the early morning, Zulema and Macarena made up. The words that had been thrown around - things like <em> just fucking leave me alone </em> and <em> it’s not like you really care about me anyway </em>- had to be explained. But it turned out that the worst was yet to come. </p><p>Zulema’s business started doing so well that she spent her few hours of free time at home working on lists of clients and their orders, trying to get everything right and calculate the amount and variety of drugs she had to order. This led to their biggest fight, a year and a half after they officially got together. Neither one of them thought things would be okay between them ever again.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Zulema, go to sleep." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The blonde turns around in their bed, switching off the brunette's night light. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Maca," the brunette protests, switching the light back on again. "You know how important this list of clients is for my business. Just five more minutes." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "That's what you said half an hour ago," the blonde huffs, annoyed. "It's three AM. Tomorrow, or today actually, is Monday, and I have a shift at nine."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette sighs, pushing back the covers before getting out of bed. "Fine. You get your precious sleep. I'm going to finish this."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maca rubs her eyes, sitting up sleepily. "Zulema, come on. Don't be like this."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette gets up and walks towards the door, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Leave it." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"<strong>Zulema</strong>." The blonde heaves herself out of bed, following her girlfriend into their living room. "You're too stressed. It's going to be fine." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Of course I'm fucking stressed!" Zulema yells, not bothering to control her emotions. "We keep getting more clients, and if I can’t finish this list of orders by tomorrow and get it to Ramirez, we might be out of stock before the end of the month. That’ll cost us money."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "How can you possibly care about money if you already have so much?” Macarena counters, agitated. She's exhausted and wants to go to sleep. Now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Just go to bed, Maca. You wanted to sleep, so sleep."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Macarena sighs excessively, rubbing her temples. She doesn't want this any longer, and what comes out is "I really don't see the point in this anymore, Zulema." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Silence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema searches her girlfriend's eyes, trying to confirm if she heard this right, but Macarena doesn't look at her. The brunette tries to stop her hands from trembling before she asks the next question.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "What do you mean?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Macarena swallows, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. Is it possible to feel physical pain at the thought of leaving Zulema? "I mean," she says, deliberately avoiding her girlfriend’s eyes. "That maybe we should just break up. I think it'd be better for the both of us. Because this is what happens every single month now, and I’m sick of it." </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema presses her lips together in an attempt to keep the rest of her body still, because this confession nearly sweeps her off her feet. She knows they have been fighting more often, but she didn't know Maca felt this way. Of course Zulema hates fighting with her girlfriend, but the thought of breaking up has never crossed her mind. Macarena is her everything.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "The thing is, you will be fine on your own," the blonde states. "Nothing ever seems to bother you. No matter what I say, you don't seem to care. It's like I'm nothing to you! It’s like your business is more important than I am!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette finally finds her voice, although tomorrow she might wish she hadn't. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "That's what you think?" she spits, infuriated. "You think I'm some kind of arrogant, selfish asshole who doesn't care about anything at all? You think I don't love you so much that I'd have no idea what to do if you're not here?"  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Macarena takes a step back, surprised by this sudden outburst and confession of love in between the lines. "No, that's not .." she starts, but finds that she forgot what she was going to say. She's at war with herself, wanting to keep Zulema but also put an end to their fights. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette takes her silence as an agreement, which is definitely not what the blonde wants. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Well, thanks!" Zulema replies sarcastically, turning away from the blonde to run her hand through raven hair. "Joder, Maca, if you'd just told me …" </em>
</p><p><em> "If I had just </em> <b> <em>told</em> </b> <em> you?" the blonde yells, frustration taking over once again. "I've been telling you for weeks, Zulema. You're just not listening!"  </em></p><p>
  <em> The brunette feels absolutely terrified, but because she's Zulema, she leans towards anger very quickly. She turns back to face Macarena, the look on her girlfriend's face tugging at her heartstrings.  </em>
</p><p><em> "So now I'm arrogant, selfish </em> <strong><em>and</em></strong> <em> I don't listen to you? Good to know. I'm glad you're so fucking perfect then," Zulema spits back. </em></p><p>
  <em> "At least I pretend to care about the people around me!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The moment the words leave her mouth, Macarena knows they're the wrong ones. She knows that the brunette cares about the people she keeps close to her, and definitely cares about her, most of all. This is not how she wanted this to go.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Zulema, that's not what I meant," the blonde tries. "I just-" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Nevermind," the brunette cuts in. "I'll be out by tomorrow evening. You can stay here." She never valued this apartment anyway. Or that’s what she tells herself, at least. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Macarena wants to cry. She looks into wide green eyes, which look terrified and furious at the same time.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Fine." </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zulema stayed true to her word and left the next day. Macarena was left behind in the big apartment all by herself, with everything reminding her of Zulema. The brunette’s smell lingered in their bedroom, on her pillow and even in the empty drawer where her clothes used to be. Maca called out of work for a week and cried until she was pretty sure there wasn’t a single tear left in her body. Exhausted, she picked herself up and went back to work like nothing happened, trying to continue her normal life. But nothing felt normal without Zulema by her side. </p><p>The pair managed to avoid each other for an entire month. That may not seem long, but it felt like a lifetime when all they could think about was the other. The person they used to be with. The person they loved, still. Until Macarena couldn’t take it anymore. She knew that Zulema was too stubborn to come back, so the blonde went looking for her. It only took her one text to Saray to find out where the brunette was.  </p><p>
  <em> Is Zulema with you?  </em>
</p><p>The reply only took a few minutes.</p><p><em>I’m officially not allowed to say anything,</em> <em>but I do have a spare bedroom that’s currently occupied. </em></p><p>Good enough, Macarena decided. She slipped into a pair of sneakers and left the building two minutes later, walking into the burning summer heat. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Saray opens the front door only a few seconds after Macarena has knocked on the wood. The blonde watches as Zulema’s best friend seems to be torn between smiling at her or getting angry, but as Saray takes in Macarena’s appearance, it’s almost as if she feels a little sorry for her. She knows like no other how difficult Zulema can be to deal with, and how easy the scorpion can hurt someone.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Zule!” Saray calls over her shoulder. “Come here for a second.” She waits until she hears a door open further into the apartment, before she throws a wink at Macarena and disappears through the front door, closing it behind her.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The blonde stands frozen as footsteps come closer and finally, she faces the woman she hasn’t seen in a month. She watches dark green eyes widen as Zulema notices her and stops in the middle of the living room.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The two women stare at each other without saying a word, the tension between them heavy. Macarena notices the smell of a different shampoo - probably Saray’s - but Zulema still seems to be wearing her signature perfume. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How did you know I was here?” Zulema asks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It wasn’t hard,” Maca shrugs. “There weren’t many places you could be.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The brunette presses her lips together before letting out a sigh.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What do you want?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All the words Macarena wanted to say, all the speeches she prepared in her head late at night while she was awake and alone in their king size bed, are all forgotten. She doesn’t remember the insults, the apologies, the explanations she thought of. Everything she wanted to say comes together in one word instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema looks at Maca. Really looks at her. She takes in Macarena’s tousled hair, baggy outfit and dark circles under her eyes. The blonde looks absolutely exhausted and Zulema can’t deny that she feels the same way herself. Although the days weren’t exactly relaxed when they were still together, it seems that being away from each other has made them even worse.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Zulema’s response (or lack thereof) takes too long for Macarena’s liking. She steps closer to the brunette until they’re face to face and lifts her hand. Zulema’s eyes initially follow the movement, but they flutter shut when Maca cups her cheek. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Come back home with me,” the blonde whispers. “Please.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As if Zulema could say no to that.  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They kissed and made up, although neither one apologized out loud. The way they held each other said enough. Zulema immediately packed her stuff and waited for Saray to get back before she left the apartment, thanking her best friend for taking her in and dealing with her for a month, and finally got back to her own place. Macarena was already waiting for her. </p><p>The attraction and absolute desire to hold, touch, feel, was so strong after not having seen each other for so long that they didn’t even make it to the bedroom. They stumbled into the hallway, but not far enough. Zulema decided to have the blonde right there against the wall instead. Two fingers inside of her and lips sucking on the side of her neck - <em> mine </em> - it didn’t take long for Macarena to come at all. The blonde wanted more time and more space though, so they eventually moved things to the bedroom. Maca pushed Zulema down onto the bed, got on top of her and started pulling on her clothes, demanding her to take them off <em> right fucking now</em>.</p><p>Desire in her veins and love in her heart, Macarena kissed soft lips to both reassure her and ask if this was okay. Zulema needed to say yes first, although her confidence had grown significantly. After their first time together, the time when Zulema let Maca touch her, it didn’t take much longer for the brunette to completely feel comfortable around Macarena in the bedroom. This turned out to be both a good and a bad thing. The good thing was that Maca could finally introduce Zulema to sex toys. The bad thing was their messed up sleep schedule, since they’d pulled several all-nighters after Zulema discovered what you <em> can’t </em>do with just fingers.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Everything starts when the brunette comes home earlier than expected.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She finds Macarena in their bed, writhing underneath the covers and moaning loudly. The blonde startles when Zulema sits down on the edge of the bed, but the moment of hesitation passes quickly and turns into a game of trying to seduce the older woman into trying this. Macarena makes a show out of it; changing the settings, she finds the perfect one to get her straight to the edge, but not over it just yet. All while maintaining eye contact with Zulema.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Macarena's breathy "please" after two minutes is the last straw for the brunette. Zulema takes the toy from her girlfriend and Macarena now finds herself on her back, spreading for Zulema as the brunette gets comfortable.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How do I …?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Just hold it right here,” Maca instructs. The vibrator touches her clit, and she shivers at the feeling. “And then you press the button, on the-” but she doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. A moan gets stuck in her throat when Zulema follows her instructions immediately.  </em>
</p><p><em>The brunette presses the button multiple </em> <em>times, trying to find her girlfriend’s favorite setting by observing her physical responses and moans.  </em></p><p>
  <em>"Yes!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ah. That's the one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zulema wouldn't be Zulema if she didn't tease her girlfriend a little. She pulls back slightly and revels in the way Maca's hips shift, trying to follow her hand that holds the toy. She has mercy on Macarena though, because she's refused this for a very long time whereas the blonde has been asking for it for months. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The brunette watches Macarena's face as she presses the small toy back against her. The blonde had already been close when Zulema walked in, so it doesn't take much longer for her to come. Maca's body goes rigid and she closes her legs, trapping Zulema's hand and the toy in between, while one of her hands wraps around Zulema's wrist. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After the blonde has calmed down a little, she looks at her girlfriend with a silent question in her eyes. And yes, Zulema wants to. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She's seen how good it feels. She wants to experience it too. She does, when Macarena urges her to lie down and kisses her, before giving her the exact same treatment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With the same toy. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Finally together after a month, they held each other and kissed and made love in their own bed. There were silent apologies in the way Macarena’s lips softly pressed against Zulema’s skin and the way Zulema was more gentle than she’d ever been. There was no rush. Just them. And when they woke up next to each other that next morning, everything felt like it had shifted back into place. They spoke about Zulema's business and although the brunette didn't confess out loud that she'd been working too much, Macarena knew that her girlfriend got the point. </p><p>Eventually, the brunette agreed to stop working until the middle of the night and promised that she wouldn't be gone for such long days anymore. She even picked Maca up from work on a random Friday to take her out on a surprise date, her way of trying to prove to the blonde that things were different now. They went to a quiet restaurant with nice red lights, very similar to those in Libertad, but the vibe was different. Macarena would almost go as far as saying that it felt <em> romantic</em>, although no one would believe her if she used the words Zulema and romantic in the same sentence. The brunette understood exactly how her girlfriend was feeling though, and knew what Maca needed in order to feel okay again. That dinner did it for the both of them, and they finally felt like they could go back to normal.  </p><p>During their fourth year together, Maca and Zulema attended a wedding. Not their own - although that didn’t leave their mind - but Saray and Maya’s wedding. They sat in the front row, a smile on their face and tears in their eyes, busy thinking about their own future and their own <em> what if. </em> Macarena chuckled under her breath and gave her girlfriend a soft nudge when she noticed Zulema quickly wiping at her eyes, trying to pretend that she wasn’t crying at the words Saray said to Maya. Her wife, from today on. </p><p>Zulema wondered how long it would be before she could call Macarena that. Her wife.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Present time</em>
</p><p>The September air is warm, just like it was five years ago. There's no need to wear a jacket despite the fact that it's past 9PM and the sun has already set. Zulema and Macarena are outside on the roof terrace, beer in one hand, sitting in their chairs. </p><p>Although stargazing is nearly impossible in the middle of a city, they try. Zulema can just make out a constellation and points at it so Macarena can see it too, although the blonde knows absolutely nothing about stars or star signs. She’s just doing this because she loves being around her girlfriend. </p><p>It’s evenings like these that Macarena loves most. Evenings when it’s just the two of them. They spend enough time together, that’s not it, but they also have their own lives. Macarena still works at Libertad and regularly goes for a drink with Katia, whereas Zulema has her business to deal with and can often be found at Saray’s place or somewhere else in the city with the <em> gitana. </em>So, whenever they have some time to themselves, Maca cherishes every second of it. And Zulema does too. </p><p>They look at the barely visible stars and have easy conversations about nothing at all, they have a few drinks and relax even more at the thought of having a day off tomorrow. Macarena ends up on Zulema’s lap, kissing her and wrapping both legs around her, while the brunette finds the strength to lift her up and carry her into the bedroom. The balance between soft and rough is 50/50 now, where it used to be 10/90. They don’t have to ask the other, simply because they <em> know. </em>Maca feels in the way Zulema touches her what the brunette needs, and Zulema knows when to tighten her hand around Maca’s throat just a little more because of a certain look in the blonde's eyes. They just know. </p><p>Tonight is soft. Both women are too tired for anything else, although Macarena has enough fight left in her to make sure she gets her turn first. </p><p>And then, maybe because Zulema is being so fucking good to her tonight, but probably because her love for this raved-haired woman is still growing stronger with each passing day, Maca says what’s been on her mind for months now. </p><p>She meant to ask her properly. In a nice cabin near the sea, where Zulema feels most at home, Macarena was going to ask her. But it slips out unintentionally, when Zulema kisses her with a warm mouth and then pulls back to look into her light green eyes, observing like she always does. </p><p>She was going to wait, really. It wasn't meant to happen like this. But somehow, with just the two of them in their own bed, <em> their </em> apartment, it feels more perfect than anything else could've been.  </p><p>"I want to marry you."</p><p>Zulema’s eyes widen. Her heart skips a beat and she nearly forgets how to breathe, forgets what it's like to have enough oxygen in her lungs to not feel lightheaded. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“You heard me,” Macarena answers, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m not saying it again.” </p><p>Zulema needs almost a full minute to get over the initial shock and fear - being with someone forever is a commitment she has never allowed herself to make - while her arm starts to shake with the effort of holding herself up. But she fights her protesting muscles, because she’s not ready to break eye contact with Macarena just yet.</p><p>“Say it again,” she demands. </p><p>Macarena, although she just told Zulema that she wouldn’t do that, obeys. Her eyes shine as she looks up at the brunette with hopefulness and love and her hand finds a place between Zulema’s shoulder blades and strokes over the skin, easing the tension. </p><p>“Marry me.” </p><p>Zulema is scared. This time not because the idea of spending forever with someone scares her, but because she knows. She knows what she's going to say, she knows what her answer will be. </p><p>She kisses the blonde. And again. And then once more, before finally buying her face in Maca’s neck. The blonde wraps her arms around her and neither one knows where one body ends and the other begins. </p><p>Against the skin of her neck, Macarena feels the words being spoken. </p><p>"Okay." </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I want to keep my family’s name," Macarena mentions the day after, over a simple late breakfast. </p><p>Zulema freezes mid-air, fork in front of her mouth and lips already parted. </p><p>“There's no way in hell I’m taking your last name, <em> rubia,</em>” she counters. "Nope. Not happening." </p><p>It turns into an argument, like most of their conversations do when they disagree on something. By the end of breakfast, they still haven’t settled on an option that's acceptable for the both of them. However, the subject gets lost in the amount of preparations they have to do and it isn't talked about until the day before their wedding day.</p><p>They figure it out, though.</p><p>Macarena hasn't been this nervous for something in her entire life. Her long blonde hair is up in a bun with a few casual strands falling down her cheeks, her makeup carefully applied. She wants this day to be perfect, because it'll be the only time in her life that she gets married. There's no one else she wants to be with.</p><p>She becomes Macarena Ferreiro-Zahir. That way, she can carry the name of her family with her forever, but also take the last name of the woman she loves more than anything else in this world. It's perfect.</p><p>And Zulema? Zulema is still Zulema Zahir. Her name belongs to her and she won't ever change it.</p><p>But her heart belongs to Macarena, and it will belong to that <span class="Apple-converted-space"><em>puta rubia </em>until the day she dies. She's sure of that. </span></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you again. for everything. 💓</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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